Zutarian's Paradise II
by ohsoxalive
Summary: Z/K Chapter 54: Stillness. She asks him, What's your favorite thing in the whole world? He doesn't know.
1. Refund, please

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar or any of it's character's. Mike and Bryan do.**

Author's Note:  
Aw heck with it. I decided to make a sequal to my previous, Zutarian's Paradise. Expect this time, there is A LOT of shipping. Ranging from major shipping, to minor characers, to just crack. So there might be Zutara, might be Taang. Might be Jet x Song or Mai. xD Stuff like that. But there will _always_ be plenty of Zutara. (see title.) So, I'm karen, if you don't know me. Enjoy!  
-karen  


* * *

"So, the Avatar never once paid you for being his master bending teachers?" 

Their new member of the gang, blinked his golden eyes as he casually asked a question to the group. He was simply curious, and simply just asking a simple question. Unfortunately, nothing is simple in this little messed up family.

Beside Aang, Katara turned her head and narrowed her eyes at bald monk who was desperately trying to disappear.

"Yes, Aang. What do _you_ pay us?"

The said Avatar laughed nervously, holding up his hands as he gave a cheesy smile.

"Um...I pay in love and friendship?"

Sokka snorted.

The fire bender shrugged, and took the tea from his Uncle's hands. Toph leaned back, already sensing the teasing smirk on the water bender's lips. Aang rubbed his head, really wishing that the topic would go away.

Just like Toph's prediction, she saw what was coming.

"Well, actually Aang. Friendship is good, because we _all_ know Zuko is broke on that."

Katara smirked after her taunt, crossing her arms in triumph while Sokka started to laugh.

Everybody could have sworn steam blew out of the firebender's ears.

"What did you say peasant!? I have friends!"

The waterbender stood, and the firebender did the same, towering over her height. Looking up with a glare, she pointed a threatening finger at him. His golden eyes flashed red dangerously, and the tea in his hands had fallen to the ground leaving Iroh to worry over that instead of the regular bickering that always happened between them.

"Uncles and imaginary friends don't count_, Prince!"  
_  
"Whatever you say, _Princess!_"

"Stupid idiotic snob!"

Toph rolled her eyes as the comments kept on coming, and she turned her head toward Aang who was watching the fight with wide eyes. Sokka sighed and decided to take advantage of Iroh's tea and give himself another serving.

"You may pay him in friendship, Twinkletoes, but Sugar Queen over there pays him in the _flirting_ department."

Aang flinched when he saw a painful water whip hit a certain firebender on the head which was quickly followed by his own fire whips. With a sigh, and feeling only a _tiny _bit sad, he spoke once more.

"Wow...I never knew flirting could be so...violent."


	2. Heavy Footsteps

**a/n I'm not going to be able to update for a while because my cousin is here, so for the next to weeks I might only update...3...or 6...times. Sorry! But I've got family to take care of.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Aang lost his childhood in that final battle. 

"Twinkletoes? You've changed."

It was Toph who noticed it, who figured it out, and decided she was going to do something about it.

He sighed.

The tired airbender took a step forward and quietly tried to escape this conversation.

Toph did not like what she was feeling.

Those footsteps, those light and bouncy footsteps she loved so much, we're gone. Now, heavy and dark ones replaced it, taking away the care free boy she knew. Every echo of his footstep made her wince painfully, because she _missed _those life filled footsteps that simply made her heart beat just a tiny bit faster.

That heart beat.

Her pale finger went toward his chest, jabbing him in the heart, and demanding her answer.

"Answer me!"

Aang bowed his head.

"I haven't changed Toph..it's just...I'm tired of pretending to be happy."

Placing his hand right where his finger is, her face softened, and he shut his eyes. Rolling up it up into a fist, he looked her in her blind eyes and said in a tiny, raspy, whisper,

"Toph, it hurts. It really hurts."

The sound of laughter from a waterbender and firebender made her pale eyes widen, bringing her reality to a halt as he bowed his head and looked up to her in desperation.

_Heartbreak._

"Don't worry, Aang. We'll fix it. I promise, Twinkletoes, I promise."


	3. Blind, or maybe not

**a/n**** Hey, hey, hey. Sorry for not updating, (family and relatives keep you busy.) and well. Here you go. Some people asked for a ****MengxLee, ****well, I think I'll get to that later. (I promise! Dx)**

Love is blind.

But Toph thought otherwise.In fact, she was positive that she could _see_ it.

And if you dared to point out that she was in fact, blind, she would be more than happy to prove that she was capable of doing

Snoozles was a story in itself. Everyday, or more like night, he would stare at the moon and say his very personal and long prayer to the spirit. No matter what, he would never miss that personal talk with her, every night her name was said in a chant that will forever haunt Toph in her dreams. She heard it all. But she never once disturbed his cycle.

And the warrior dress and fans, that he kept secretly in his pillow, was where he mourned for his two loves. Where he hid his wet face, where he quietly said her name in his dreams, and where he prayed for the future

.Only Toph, and a certain sister, knew that he cried.

At the mention of their names, his heart slowed and sped up again. His breath would hesitate, and his soul would choke.

Toph _knew_ this was love. She saw it.

Then there was Sugar Queen and Prince Hot Head, which she would quietly observe every morning, since they were such an interesting subject.

They squirmed near each other. Their hearts beat just a tiny bit faster, and they both slightly rise in temperature.

But their bickering, their insults, and their rolling eyes were not what made Toph think. Even if they were incredibly amusing. Who knew Sugar Queen has such a colorful vocabulary?

It was those moments in the late night, hushed whispers of dead mothers and apologies with tears from both of them, and their skipping hearts that made her sigh.

That, Toph knew, when she felt and saw it happen, was love.

But maybe, love _really_ was blind.

Toph certainly _never_ saw the day when Twinkletoes blurted his feelings for her and his heartbeat was racing as fast as he sputtered out his stuttering words.

And he certainly didn't see the slab of earth knock him off his feet and rough finger jab him in the chest.

"What took you so long, Twinkletoes?!"

Nobody saw that coming, and nobody really saw that kiss either.


	4. Hey! You!

**a/n**** This ****kinda**** sucks. But oh well…someone asked for a ****MengxLee**

* * *

A pigtailed girl scrunched up her nose and sneezed. 

"I can't believe we just became a _traveling_ fortune teller."

Whose idea was it anyway?

Oh right. Hers.

Knocking on the door they were supposed to visit in all the Earth Kingdom, she sighed as she waited at the door while Aunt Wu was setting up the carriage.

Carefully the door opened and a small boy, just her age, appeared in her brown eye vision.

Meng blinked.

"I'm Meng and Aunt Wu the fortune teller is here to visit your house."

"I'm Lee. And my mom is getting dressed."

They stood there awkwardly, until something caught the girl's eyes.

"Hey! Is that a panda-lily garden?"

Lee nodded.

He blinked when he saw Meng smile as big as the sun itself.

Deciding to take a longer observation of the boy, she smiled as she pretended to wipe away imaginary dirt from her purple robes. Lee took a step backward remembered what his older brother told him about how girls were icky.

"Hey, you've got some pretty big ears!"

When he felt her grab his arm and cling to it for her life as she said something about how they should go do something together, Lee groaned.

That's why he was hiding In the barn behind the dragon-chickens while Meng screamed out his name, looking for the buck toothed kid.

All he had to do was repeat the lines, "Girls are icky. Girls are icky.", and somehow it kept him planted where he was.

Even if he did think she was, well, pretty.


	5. Graves

**a/n I keep writing angst. Crap. And making people die. Crap. Enjoy? Review, please!**

* * *

"You left me." 

Zuko stood before a lonely grave in a lonely field.

"How could you?"

Narrowing his golden eyes, his hands curled into fists, as he felt his heart beat louder against his aching ribs. His clothes were worn and torn from a battle they won, but that lost so many.

"Uncle. _Why?_"

He was his Uncle.

No, _father,_ he corrected himself.

His birth father was dead somewhere, but _this_ man was who acted like his father, and would be remembered like his father.

"Why did you leave me!?"

Suddenly his hand was reaching for a rock. The another, and another.

"_I'm miserable without you!"_

Zuko launched forward the rock, screaming as he furiously continued, he aimed for the grave that he wished would go away.

"_I need you!"_

Zuko screamed.

He stumbled forward, falling to hard and filthy ground, landing on his already scraped knees.

_"Why!?"___

To look at the name and think of just the other day when he saw the most important man in his life fall, made his soul choke and it felt like someone had ripped open his lungs and stabbed his heart.

So he looked away an hid his face his in his dirty hands.

Slowly, he felt someone behind him, and he looked up.

"Zuko."

"_Katara__."_

Falling to the ground with him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and let herself cry for a man she loved and only knew for a not so long time.

Zuko's head fell into her lap, and for the second time that day, he cried.

Execpt, this time, he wasn't alone.


	6. Like Old Times: Part1

**a/n**** Decided to add some fluff/humor. ****Two parts. This is basially how I imagine/want Zutara to happen. xD**

**Part 1.**

* * *

"You know, we probably look really pathetic right now."

A laugh was his answer as he watched his opponent's hand move across the board and slide a tile up on the ancient game.

"Are you talking about we just skipped a meeting or that we were the only ones unmarried there?"

Zuko snorted, his golden eyes narrowed as he moved his tile and swiped a few of Katara's as well, which received a pout from the waterbender. Looking up he shook his head and smirked.

"Actually, I was talking about how this is the fifth game in a row we've played today, and I'm still winning."

Katara muttered something about he's just lucky he inherited_ something_ good from his Uncle.

"Suki just had another baby. It's a girl. Again."

"Isn't that the third one?"

"Fourth."

Moving her own tile across the board, her finger lingered on the rustic edges of the piece, noticing there was a crack in it. Taking a mental note that she was going to have to convince Zuko to spend some of his money, and stop buying cheap things. He was Fire Lord after all.

"Katara, I still can't believe Toph and Aang got married two weeks ago."

This time, a sigh was his answer.

"What's wrong?" Zuko asked, as he swiped away another tile from the board, which then Katara promptly kicked him in the shin.

"Nothing. Sometimes I wonder when I'm going to get married."

Rubbing his wounded leg, he looked up and for a moment he face went soft. But then he quickly pointed to the board, silently telling her that it was her turn.

"I'm sure you'll find someone, Katara."

Shrugging, the next few minutes were quiet, and only the sound of tiles moving across the board and soft breathing were heard.

Until Katara finally spoke.

"How will I ever find someone when all I do is sit here and play Pai Sho with, _you_, every day!?"

"So now it's _my_ fault that you're not married?!"

"Yes!"

They both froze.

Staring into each other's eyes, the game was suddenly forgotten, as they stood to their feet. Their hearts beat faster, their breath begins to hesitate, and all the blood rushed to their face.

_(just__ like old times.)_

Grabbing his red and unwrinkled collar, she pulled him down and kissed him, running her fingers through his hair, and he pulled her down to the floor as he moaned for more.

All proper manners of royalty were soon forgotten.


	7. Like Old Times: Part2

**Part 2.**

"Twinkletoes, we need to find Sugar Queen and Lord Hot Head, since they were so kind to leave me in that boring meeting. Do you know how boring it is without their wonderful fight—"

The blind earthbender stopped midstep when she opened the doors to the library.

"Kat—!"

Her hand slapped over her husband's mouth, pulling him into the hallway. A smirk erupted on her lips as she deviously cracked her knuckles as Aang watched with slight confusion.

"Did I just see what I think I saw, Toph?"

"Yes, Sugar Queen and Lord Hot Head were making out. Get over it."

"Don't you think we should…I don't know...do something about it?"

Shaking her head and blowing the bangs from her eyes, the Earth Kingdom ambassador crossed her arms and looked blindly at her nervous husband.

"You know why there are doing this?"

"Why?"

Taking a step forward she pointed at the wide open door where the Fire Lord and the Water Tribe ambassador were currently on the floor, doing Spirit's knows what, then looked back at Aang.

"Because when they were younger they did not let out those wild raging teenage hormones on each other like I told them to."

"Toph, honey, you trapped them in a hole and told them to make out. That doesn't really help."

"You're right. I should have kept them in there longer."

Aang slapped his forehead and opened his mouth to say something until the _other_ Water Tribe ambassador came into his vision.

"Sokka?"

Toph smirked and let out a chuckle.

"Hey Aang, have you seen Katara? Suki needs to ask her something—"

The brother stopped dead in his tracks.

In his arms were was his middle child, the one that look exactly like him, and beside him was his oldest child which was still at a young age. Aang could have sworn he saw a vein pop out of his head.

"Oh my.."

"KATARA! CHILDREN! THERE ARE CHILDREN IN HERE!"

Covering his little girl's eyes, he turned around as he heard his children scream and quickly pushed them out of the room, closing the door behind him. Slapping his forehead he decided to ignore Toph's and Aang laughter.

Inside the library, beside the knocked over Pai Sho board, Katara sat up.

Yes. That was Sokka's voice she heard.

Her hair was down and a terrible mess, their clothes were wrinkled and just a tiny bit loose. Rolling off of Zuko, she groaned and turned her head toward him.

"Katara! GET YOUR BUTT OUT HERE, RIGHT NOW."

Sokka's voice. Again.

Katara glared at Zuko.

"What!?"

"I blame you."

(_just__ like old times.)_


	8. Say It

**a/n I apologize for the shortness of this one. And for making you wait so long! Um. Sorry? D:**

_(He's waiting for the day when he'll melt her heart away.)_

They say, it's never to late to say it.

_Again._

In the middle of _his_ palace and _his_ ballroom, and _his_ party, the Fire Lord watched as the Avatar stood on one knee, with a necklace, and a smile that he loathed, as he proposed to the one woman who understood him.

He guessed the dance that they just shared a few minutes ago didn't mean a thing.

"Katara..."

Her name came as an inaudible whisper, lingering in the air as he turned around and began to walk away.

And when he did, he never noticed how she hesitated to glance at him with longing eyes, only to see the back of a golden crown and flowing red robes that disappeared around the corner.

She did what she had to do.

"Yes."

Katara accepted.

Zuko realized, it never is to late to_ say_ it.

But it was too late to do so.

_(But she keeps slipping through his fingers like the water she is.)_


	9. Something New, and that poor old table

"Lord Hot Head, will you just cool down? Please?"

Said Fire Lord slammed his sweating fists against the conference table, causing the tea cups and dainty silverware to shake as the papers he hovered over trembled.

"No! Now stay out of this! This is between me, and this...this...stubborn peasant."

Toph sighed as Sokka slammed his head against the table.

The complete list of generals, admirals, ambassadors sat at the table, with gasps and wide eyes as their blood pressure began to boil.

"Peasant!? Don't be childish or we can take this outside!"

Eyes traveled from the fuming Fire Lord Zuko to the angry Water Tribe ambassador as she challenged their nation's leader with a demanding hand on her hip.

_Well_, this was certainly something _new._

Two weeks later the same people sitting at that conference table almost fell from their chairs when they saw the trading route map and prices that the Fire Lord designed was ripped and thrown out the window by a certain water bender.

Of course, they got used to the name calling and the force earthbending to keep them in order.

But, two days later, they almost had a heart attack when they watched Katara's hand slap their Lord's _good_ cheek which ended with flying fire and water whips as fought _on_ the conference table.

Sokka, and this time with Aang, slammed their heads against the singed table.

Gossip between the servants and guards has never been so good. And filled with giggles and very accurate mocking insults. Ever.

After a two years, when they _finally_ got used to everything, seen everything that could possibly happen, and the bickering has surprisingly stopped for a long while, the most unexpected happened.

Those same people from the day one of the conference, nearly died and they swore their ancestors rolled in their graves when they saw that same Fire Lord and the same waterbender just suddenly kiss. During a conferece. _On_ the table, _again._

Nothing was ever the same again. Or ever will be, during the conference, in the palace, or between the Fire Lord and the Waterbender.

Including the table that they replaced when it collaspsed under their weight.


	10. Soaring

**a/n: Is this corny to you?**

* * *

"I am not afraid of walking this world alone." 

All he could do was look at her as she held her chin up in defense, a sharp edge as stubborn as the earth under her feet.

Suddenly, he bowed his head and looked away.

"Tell me, what will you do when you leave this world? Will you be afraid?"

Even through the blindness in her eyes, she saw the wave of worry hanging over his bald head. His once fluttering heartbeat struck cold like the sharp winds tossing her hair around. Shivering, they both stood still and the movement of dirt from the wind caused her senses to blur, and she found herself only listening to the beating of his heart and nothing else.

"I have the earth. That's all I need, Aang."

His grey eyes trailed to the cold ground beneath her bare feet, and then his own, and he found himself frozen on the spot.

"When you leave this world, there will be no more earth. Not even you, the greatest earthbender, can stay here on the earth forever."

Toph kept silent.

Again, the wind tossed around her dark bangs. His soft footsteps echoed all the way to her heart as he stepped closer, and she felt his breath tickle her pale face. He hesitated, and she found herself holding her breath as her soul screamed to hear him again, because it was in the silence when she couldn't feel him near, _or even there._

"Will you be afraid," he asked, "without the earth?"

"Not if you teach me to fly."

He smiled.

On the earth her only fear was when he wasn't there, when he somewhere in the air where she _could not_ feel his heartbeat.

Because that tiny _thump thump_ was what kept her alive.

When her feet left the earth, and she found herself spreading her arms, she was_ soaring._

It was then she found out that his breath and his spirit was in the wind itself, and that he was _everywhere._


	11. A Little More Than Boring

"This is really getting boring."

Sokka sighed as he placed a yawning chin on his hand, as he propped an elbow on Aang's head. The sun was shining down, and the center of attention, once again, was Katara and Zuko's bickering over a map.

The world's greatest earthbender fell face first into the dirt, sluggishly, as she heard another insult be thrown into the air.

"_Boring."  
_  
A dark finger came into his view as blue eyes flashed angrily at him. A defiant raise of her chin showed she was not ready yet to back down, as the hand on her hip distracted Zuko's attention for the _slightest_ second. So fast, that not even Toph noticed, or so he thought.

"Let me guess! You hate me, right?"

An accusing finger pointed back at her, as he raised his voice. Katara's tight lips curled, as her knuckles turned white from for determination to _not_ hit that, amazingly, handsome chin.

"Of course you idiot! I _love _you!"

Zuko's face froze, and suddenly it seemed the whole world joined with him. It took three seconds for her to realize what she said, and her once tight face loosened as her jaw hung open. Her hands flew straight to her mouth as she gasped and shook her head in quite embarrassment from herself.

Toph lifted her face up from the dirt.

Well, this got _interesting._

"I _so_ didn't mean that! I meant, something else...and not...t-that..."

From somewhere, and she knew exactly who, she heard a_ "she's lying_" but decided to deal with_ that_ person later.

Katara glanced from side to side, ignoring her wide eyed brother and Avatar, and the smirking Toph, before looking back at the frozen exiled prince.

Releasing her fist so that it was flat and took a deep breath as she desperately tried to ignore the fact her cheeks were flaming red.

"It's all your fault!" She accused, once again, at the speechless Zuko.

Two seconds later he was on the ground with a burning cheek which her small hand had punched.

She ran far away, far, far, _far_ away after that.

Because, really, it was his fault that she had fallen in love with him.

_"Stop giving me reasons _not_ to hate you!"_


	12. Waiting Water

**Sorry for not updating, vacation and life got in my way. **

**Someone requested something to do with the Season 3 cover. Trust me, I have ALOT of ideas for it. Haven't seen it? GO. LOOK. IT. UP. NOW. You won't regret it. I promise I'll put something up to do with all that new gossip news, after this drabble. This idea got in my mind and I couldn't make it go away.**

**(Takes place during the last scene of Season 2.)**

Everything changed.

With the fall of a great city slipping off their tired shoulders, and the rise of yet another red flag left to haunt their dreams, nothing would ever be the same.

There once was a time when they remembered hearing the stories of great heroes and heroines of the past, where smiles and laughter once filled their memories, and where they were once children.

They used to wonder if they would once be remembered, if their names would fill the pages of history books that will change the world, would they be remembered for being _heroes_ of a triumph or would they be the ones who _failed?_

That changed. Because, now they don't wonder, they only live for the next day.

And that was all she wanted.

She needed him to live for that very next day.

The darkness crawled over her shoulder as the lights of a fallen city faded behind them. The only sound that was heard was the sound of breathing, and the swishes of a flying bison's tail. A dark and heavy scar burdened the only Avatar's back, and hers as well.

But, there was a tiny moment. There was a fraction of time where the oasis bottle in her hand trembled, and she held her breath as she hesitated with the hurricane of thoughts crashing around in her head.

The scar on Aang's back reminded her of someone else, and only the echoes of a single voice rang through her head, as water in that tiny bottle began to cut through her heart.

"_That's something we have in common."_

She doesn't want to, but she blames herself for that wound on his back

The oasis bottle that is _not _empty and the tiny drops of water in the bottom of the container that she's saving for that one person who might never change, keep appearing in her dreams, and she can't help but think that if she had used it all everything would change.

_Like the scar on a little boy's back._

Things may have changed, but her forgiveness never did. It's waiting, waiting just like she is for the next time they meet again, and the very next time she swears she will help him. Suddenly, worry and guilt begin to pile up in her soul, as the oasis bottle burns a hole through her clutched hands.

Not even _that_ could heal him inside, and she wasn't even sure if she _could _heal the scar on his face.

Tears are the only thing that twinkle under the night sky, as she confides to herself and only herself.

Did she offer to heal the _right_ scar? The one on his face or the one on his heart?

Time could only tell. _But it could not heal._

Only she could do that.

_So she waits._


	13. Pride

**a/n: Sorry for not updating. :[ I...just can't think up ANY ideas. Their all cliché and their all stupid. Erughghhh! I have exactly 23 different documents that I started but couldn't finish because I hated the idea. I have no ideas...**

**So, for the rest of the week, TOMORROW AND THE NEXT DAY ONLY, I am taking requests. I will only complete those that are said to me on that day, and that is all. I will NOT take those that are given to me after Friday.**

**Got it? Yay, let's hope I have inspiration, and enough cookies to get me through the week.**

* * *

Katara was never a prideful person who liked to brag.

She just wasn't.

Even when she married the Fire Lord, and even when she had a crown on her head to display to the whole world who she was, she did not like to talk about her wealth and status.

While the other nobles wives were having tea and chatting, she was in the palace garden sparring with her husband or most of the guards who she had happened to become very close friends with.

Gossip from spying wives made their way all through the palace, but Katara would just continue to fight, because that was just was just who she was. A _fighter._ These woman knew nothing about the _real_ world outside the palace gates, but she did, for the scars on her hands and body proved that very well.

"Lady Katara," they once asked her, "How did you get those scars on your hands and arms?"

"Their battle scars, from the war I fought in."

And suddenly the stories of the blue eyed waterbender with the Avatar was remembered in their minds, and they realized all along it was _her_ who helped stop the war, as she disappeared around the corner and left them with their own thoughts.

But most of all, Katara could have bragged about her husband to these woman, she really could have.

But she didn't.

Even if he was now the most powerful man and bender, in this red nation, he was still _her _Zuko.

When rough times would come, and when power would rush to his head, it was _her _who would talk him out of it to make sure he would forever be the same person he so beautifully changed into.

Sometimes, Katara would see her husband laugh and talk with her father and brother during a large festival, and it was then when Katara would turn to the woman next to her and always whisper the same thing.

"_That's my husband, that is _my_ husband."_

For, whether it was the big things he did, like peace treaties that he signed and declared, or the tiny things, like a chuckle or two with her father, and a pat on the back with her brother, she would always say the same thing.

Katara would always be proud of her husband, silent or not, she just would be.


	14. So, Perfect

**a/n: Sorry I haven't updated. Been out of state visiting my brother.**

**Oh my god. Have you seen the video for the Season 3 trailer!??! -sobs-**

**No matter what shipping it will be, Maiko or Kataang, I will still support Zutara till the very last episode. So because of that amazing, but tragic, but amazing, trailer, I going to let out all my emotions with something angsty. And about the requests...mind if I hold on to them till later? I apologize! But I need to vent out my -cough-overwhelmedraging-cough- reaction to this spoiler.**

* * *

"I think you should know something." 

Blue and gold clashed and collided as they stood in the dark room. The candle near them danced as it left a soft glow on their faces, as the silence of the night wrapped around them like a warm blanket.

Katara's eyes focused on the golden crown before her eyes, and when her eyes rested on the flame of a burning candle, she could already feel it melting away her broken heart.

"I love him."

The words fell through the space between them, and cut like a knife.

Mai says nothing.

"It's been on my chest," She doesn't say that it's been there for years now, " And I felt the need to tell you."

When the waterbender turns away and shuts her eyes, she ignores the necklace that taunts her from the other girl's pale neck, and only the sight of the candle is left to burn her memories away.

_It wasn't supposed to be like this._

"Thank you for telling me, Katara. It means a lot to me._" _

With a trembling hand, she brings her hand to her chest as she glances once more at the Fire Lord's _wife_. Every breath she takes, she feels another memory of the _past_ falling into the dancing flames and burning everything she once loved, to ashes.

_It didn't have to end this way._

"Your perfect for each other," Katara lies through her teeth, "And I wish you a wonderful marriage."

_But it did._

Her broken heart collapses for the last time, leaving a trail of shattered pieces and torn memories, in the very place she fell in love with, and will love for the last time.

The tears that fall as she walks away, will be the only thing she will never be able to bend away.


	15. Desire

**a/n: Sequal to the last one, cause I sure hope this happens. (Because, Zutarian's need something to cheer them up. :D)**

* * *

"Was it all a dream?" She whispers, "Sometimes, that's all I ever wanted it to be." 

Like her words, everything goes quiet. Silence screams into their souls, the words they want to say, are too hard to even speak.

For a moment, her heart stops beating. To be truthful, she wished that it stayed like that.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Katara rises from her chair, as she flashes her tired blue eyes at him angrily; she desperately tries to hide the crack in her voice as words from her heart spill out from her pursed lips.

"Sorry!? Is that all you can say, after you have forgotten me for so many years? And now you come back to me, just so suddenly?"

Just like before, he raises his bowed head to look in her eyes, letting out a breath that had been suffocating him.

"Katara, I never forgot about you. _Never_."

Turning around, he watched as long brown hair bounced on defeated shoulders. Tears formed from her eyes, even if she struggled _so _much to be strong. But, in the end, she just had enough.

"It's been four years. Four years. Four years of you being with _her_, four years of me thinking you had forgotten me, and four years of being alone. Why, Zuko? _Why?"_

People say hate is a strong word.

But, so is love.

And it hurts; it hurts just as much, and maybe even more.

"I was in love with you," She hoarsely whispered between silent sobs, "I loved _you."_

When she felt a shadow over her, she choked on a sob once more, franticly wiping away the tears even if they still kept coming down. Her back faced him, and he did nothing but shut his eyes painfully.

Every mistake you make in life, it will come back to make you pay.

And this, _this, _these tears were ripping him apart.

One mistake caused this, one single mistake, and now it was all falling apart.

_Just like both their hearts._

"I was wrong. Katara, please, I was selfish and wrong. I made a mistake!"

_Please,_ he wants to beg to her, _look at me._

"She left me, Mai left me, and she's moved on, Katara."

The only reaction she made was straighten her back, as the knuckles that clutched her necklace turning ghastly white as she cracked open her voice once more.

"So that's why you come to me? Because she's moved on and you're all alone!?"

Shaking his head, his pale hand reaches up to her dark cheek with trails of tears and tilts her head in his direction. With a soft whisper, that could only be heard by her, he spoke once more as he opened his heart to her.

"No. I couldn't move on, because my heart has always been stuck on _you_."

Turning her head, she lost her breath as she tears once more poured from her blue eyes. Throwing her arms around his neck, she dove into a hug as she burrowed her head into his chest.

They were never meant to be.

But they can make it happen.

"Don't leave me again," They whisper as they speak between kisses, "_Please_."


	16. Understanding

**a/n: I haven't been updating...sorry. D: I've been too busy reading and being lazy. Hm...I like this one! Surprisingly. Enjoy.**

* * *

Zuko doesn't understand his wife.

It was just the first days as newlyweds, living under the roof of his palace for the first time together -_alone-_ when she refused to eat dinner.

"I will not," she looked him square in the eye, "I will not eat this food that was not made by me."

"But why not?" Zuko asked carefully. Had they not eaten out before? Like, maybe, _yesterday?_

Pushing the plate that was set in front of her far, far, away from her, Katara shook her head. Clasping her hands together, the water bender straightened her crown and stood from the table, where her husband watched with confused eyes.

"This is our home now. It would be an insult to my culture, to the woman of my tribe, and myself if another woman cooked a meal for _my_ husband."

Without another word, Zuko nodded, deciding to respect her wishes.

In other words: no one ate to dinner that night.

As time passed on, he found out that Katara lived by many rules to her life.

"Why aren't there any windows?"

Waking up from his short nap from behind the papers on his desk, Zuko wiped away the drool on his face before looking over his shoulder to shrug.

"I don't know, honey. It's always been like that."

All he heard was a mumble about Toph, metal, and new furniture.

The very next week, he had windows in his office, and an earth bender waiting for her money at his doorway.

In the course of their long marriage, Zuko was positive he had learned things that a Fire Lord should _never _even know.

From learning how to make the bed properly, to sewing and fixing clothes, to learning how to fish and make the best kind of seal jerky there is, decorating a room with the perfect curtains, how to put a diaper on the right way, to even braiding doll's hair.

All taught by his one and only wife.

He remembered the time Katara had ditched a tea party to go watch the Avatar's wife fight in the Earth Rumble, and baby sit her brother's children, all in the same day.

But Zuko also remembered when Katara had just given birth to their son, and she had brought him to one of those certain tea parties with the wives of the most important men in the Fire Nation.

"Just hand the child to one of the servants, Lady Katara." they said to her, "It's healthy to let him cry on his own."

Bringing their tea cups to their painted lips, they narrowed their eyes when the stubborn water bender just shook her head as she held her crying son to her chest.

"It's healthier for him to be happy."

At her answer, she smiled and laughed when their son knocked over a cup of tea.

The Fire Lord would just sigh and hide his small smile behind his hand, when his wife interrupted his meeting with the military officials, yet_ again. _

Last time, it was for a giant bowl of seal jerky.

This time she brought a tray of warm cookies and tea, as the men smiled and happily thanked her.

The men began to actually look forward to meetings, waiting to see what the Fire Lady had cooked up next, and to hear her humorous jokes and cute laughter as she kisses her blushing husband flat on the lips.

Nobody has ever missed a meeting since.

But there were also days, days that didn't end well. And there were nights behind closed door, and under stormy nights, when the tears would shed along with the rain.

"I'm sorry, Katara, I'm so sorry."

When the heated arguments of fire and water melted away to steam, and Zuko would wrap an arm around her, she would say the words that made him know why he had married her.

"I forgive you."

Each and every time she said those words, it made his heart beat against his chest, as he felt her lift something from his shoulder. He didn't know how she did it. But every time he messed up, she would be there to lift him to his feet and help him through it.

Zuko was amazed.

She had used his failures to make him better, and she had done it all alone.

There used to be tiny things that bothered him, but now he loved them. Like the way she would cried whenever something died. For example, a turtle-duck just last spring.

And there used to be things that scared him, but he now he though they were amazing. Like the way she gave birth to three children, one of them in the middle of the South Pole, and raised every single one without a single hand from a single servant.

Nope, Zuko will never understand his wife.

And the funny thing is, their daughter is acting more and more like her mother every single day.

Zuko doesn't know a lot of things, but he is sure for a few.

If their daughter ends up anything like her mom, one day there is going to be one more lucky guy in this world, thankful for burned seal jerky for his dinner.


	17. Daddy

"Daddy?"

All eyes went down, as silence stabbed the walls around them, and the wide eyes of a child blinked.

"What did you just say?"

With a trembling hand, Katara put a hand to her mouth as she stared at her daughter. Blue eyes stared at each other, as she grabbed her three year old daughter's pale hand. Her heart thumped against her chest, as if trying to escape, as she prayed for this to not be happening.

"_Daddy,"_

The small child repeated again, as Katara choked and held back something wet behind her blue eyes.

"Don't say that. Don't say that, honey!"

Katara scooped up her child, cutting short her visit in the Fire Nation palace. Apologizing, she held her daughter over her shoulder, as she talked over the sound of her child's crying.

Glancing back, she frowned as she began to hurry her pace back to her _husband,_ knowing very well his gray eyes would never be able to protect her from the golden ones watching her leave.

Zuko frowned.

The Fire Lord watched as the waterbender ran down the halls to the arms of a monk, as the child over her shoulder -_the one with the gold tinted blue eyes and his same hair- _cried out to him, her small hand trying to reach him.

"Daddy!"

Suddenly, the night before her marriage to another man, came to his memory.

Memories of a night of passion, his skin against her skin, as steam washed through his mind. It was a night of lust and want, as they touched for the last time as lovers. The curve of her breast was still imprinted on his mind, as he kissed her jawline, and the night was over before he knew it.

Suddenly, the little girl he had spent so much time and loved, the one in the arms of the only woman who could fulfill his desires; and leave him wanting it so much more, mistook him for the wrong man.

But in a way, she was right.

As much as he wanted to imagine them visiting for their regular visit tomorrow, he knew he wasn't going to see both the girl's he loved so much, for a very long time.

He was just the man behind the curtain, unseen and unknown, in this family picture that he wanted so much.

"_Daddy."_

If only it was that easy.

_Because the truth was so much messier than the lie, and it hurt so much._

* * *

**a/n: If you don't get it; Zuko is the real father. They conceived the night before her wedding to Aang. Yeah. Weird idea. Sorry, I was bored. It sounded better in my head. Is this any good? Does it make sense? Or should I delete it? Give me your personal opinion, please!**


	18. The Chair

**a/n: To make up for the angst.**

* * *

Even if there were blood stains and ashes stained across the tiles, stretching out to the very core of their souls, he was sitting on the throne that was supposed to be rightfully his the very next day. 

Meditating, Zuko shut his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. Red from either a torn flag across the room, or maybe it was blood from his very own father's body (he couldn't tell either way since the war had ended just a week ago and they were still cleaning up) burned his senses as he tried to relax in the stiff golden throne he had been dreaming about since he was so very young.

He had to get used to the chair, after all. No matter how uncomfortable it is.

This would be his seat for the rest of his life.

It was as if the room had been calling his name, captivating his burning heart, as he shut his golden eyes to a room that held so many memories.

"_Zuko,"_

He could hear the golden throne repeating his name, grasping his desires and smirking at him.

Somehow, it relaxed him.

"_Zuko!"_

Zuko swore he was dreaming.

It was either because he was going to be Fire Lord the next day, or because of the water bender straddling his lap.

So _that's_ why he felt so relaxed.

Oh.

_Oh!_

Realizing it had been actually a person calling his name, and not a very un-human golden object, Zuko looked at the blue eyes and felt something hot boil at his cheeks. And he knew that the Fire Nation's throne room was a very warm place, but was it just him or was it _steaming_ in here?

"Zuko."

With her arms around his shoulder, he carefully placed his own hands on her back and held her closer. His name was said in such a cooling way, as the red of the room disappeared and he melted away into the blue of her eyes.

"Katara."

He whispered her name back, breathing hotly into her ear as she kissed his cheek. Her hands went to his hair, running her fingers across his back, as he kissed her neck.

Suddenly, the very chair Zuko had thought to be so uncomfortable, well, he just didn't want to leave it.

A whisper broke the kiss that they shared, as she looked him in the eyes and paused.

"May I be Fire Lady for the day, Fire Lord _Zuzu?"_

Said Fire Lord smirked, as he lowered his voice huskily, which made said Fire Lady roll her eyes.

"Any day, my lady."


	19. Doomed

**a/n: The only sad thing in this one shot is the fact that this really happened to my own dad once. (And Zuko's stupidity is pretty sad, too.) I'd like to mention that I think my funny bone is broken. I'm not funnyyyyy anymore. D:**

* * *

"Zuko!"

Her smile brightened the entire room, as she felt Zuko sneak up from behind and kiss her cheek. He grinned as he kissed her, bringing the flowers he had hid behind his back up to her face. Soft white petals brushed against her dark cheeks, which were now a tint of pink.

"Panda-lilies! Their beautiful."

Katara took them from the Fire Lord's hand, holding them to chest as she looked up to her husband. He grinned down at her, kissing her fully on the lips as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I saw them and thought of you, so I brought them for you." Zuko paused, this time with a bigger grin. "Just because. No reason at all."

The Fire Lady's smile flickered.

"No reason at all?"

Her voice seemed strain, as she tensed in his arms and he just nodded and smirked into her neck, giving her light kisses on her skin.

"...That's it?"

This time he gave a soft moan, which was his way of answering yes to the question.

Zuko was a man who has been through a lot.

He's seen a lot.

Done a lot.

He just never expected his wife's next reaction.

"I can't believe you!"

The only thing he was able to see in the next few seconds were the flowers that had been thrown roughly at his face, with a direct hit, as she stomped out the room and slammed the door right behind him. The Fire Lord was left to spit out the petals that had been stuffed into his face, and glare at the door with a very surprised look on his face.

Kicking the door, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, as he muttered to himself.

"I knew I should have gotten the chocolate."

It was then he heard the door creak open. Snapping his head up with a smile, expecting his wife back to apologize for her sudden moodiness that he could simply never predict.

"Hey, Zuko!"

Oh great.

_Them._

He frowned when he saw Aang and Toph, and of course, his brother-in-law, Sokka. They cheerfully stepped inside, oblivious to the sulking Fire Lord as he glared at his visitors.

"How did you guys get inside without the guards asking my permission?"

True, Zuko was curious, and he really should have seen the answer coming.

"Oh, Toph took care of them for us."

Said earthbender smirked.

Sokka gave Zuko a pat on the back, something he had learned was common for Water Tribesmen to do to each other. Nodding to his brother-in-law, he frowned at the others who seemed to be smiling at him for some very unknown strange reason.

"Congratulations, Zuko!"

Well, that was weird.

"What? Why?" The Fire Lord snapped back at the trio, glaring his hard amber eyes at his younger friends.

If there was a certain look you gave to the biggest idiot in the world, well, they nailed it.

"...Zuko." Aang raised an eyebrow, whispering as if it were one big secret, "Don't you know what today is?"

"A bad day?" He guessed, as he worriedly looked down at them.

"It is now." Toph added, shaking her head in disbelief.

Finally, his impatient brother-in-law from the South blurted the dreaded answer out, letting out a loud groan when Zuko finally realized what a horrible day this was turning out to be.

"Your anniversary!"

"...Agni, I'm an idiot."

Slapping a hand at his forehead, the Fire Lord promptly hit his head against a wall, mumbling a list of curses toward every Spirit known to man, and got hit on the head again when he mentioned something about the moon. Groaning he turned his head over at the trio, who were shaking disappointed heads at the poor (and doomed) guy.

"Do you think it's too late to buy some chocolate? Lots of chocolate?"

He asked, as he rubbed the forming bruise on the side of his head. Rearranging his crown, he watched as Sokka shrugged and Aang gave a nod.

"If you hurry, you might. But I think you should buy some jewelry also." The Avatar gave his advice, as Toph gave an approving nod.

Suddenly, a noise that made the powerful Fire Lord tremble in fear, echoed across the halls.

"ZUKO!"

Katara.

"Oh _sh--_"

Widening his eyes, he scrambled to the door nearly tripping over thin air, as he ran straight toward the door to try and escape. The trio ushered him to the door, pushing him forward as they heard the footsteps of the one and only Fire Lady come closer.

"Run! Run, Zuko! Run to the store and don't look back!"

Making his way out to the door, they yelled out different stores and different items that could pass as a fitting gift for the angry waterbender. Sokka leaned out the door, watching as Zuko turned a corner and gave a yelp as he made his way to the exit.

"He's doomed."

At this, they nodded in agreement, as they made their way to kitchen.


	20. Steam Babies

**a/n: Omg, you can totally see this happening, right? I love this one. :D**

* * *

She was melting in his arms.

Softly, she moaned as he smirked to himself. Shedding kisses along her neck, and planting long and passionate ones on her red lips, he caressed her cheek with his thumb. Even in the bitter cold, his greedy hands were tugging at the end of her thick blue clothes.

Of course, he was more than willing to bear the cold just for her.

A hand ran through his hair, as she pulled him closer, and let his arms trap her in his warm embrace. The small room was beginning to grow _steamy, _when he felt her giggle when he ran a hand down her back.

"Ahem."

With a yelp, Katara pushed her husband forward as the burning heat rushed to her face, providing enough warmth for the entire village. Quickly fixing her braid, she snapped her head at Zuko who was desperately trying to button up his shirt.

Standing at the entrance of their tent, was their worst nightmare imaginable, with her arms crossed and a shaking head.

"Gran-Gran," Katara squeaked, "What are you doing here?"

_Awkward much?_

Mumbling something inaudible for the newlyweds to hear, her grandmother walking over her only granddaughter, she softly pushed her toward the pile of clothes to fold in the corner of the small tent.

"Shouldn't you be doing your chores instead of lip-locking, Katara?"

Bowing her head, the young woman fumbled with her red and blue engagement around her neck as she blushed and nodded at the old woman.

"Yes, Gran-Gran. I'm sorry."

If Zuko thought Katara was scary, well, he had just figured it out where she had inherited it from.

Blue eyes narrowed into slits, as the old woman shot out her arm and grabbed his only good ear. Pinching it hard and long, she started to make her toward the exit of the tent, dragging Zuko by the ear. Giving a yelp of pain, he managed to keep his painful '_ouch!'_ under his breath in order to keep some dignity that he had lost during that vacation.

"And _you, _young man!"

"_Sorry, Gran-Gran! I won't do it again! I swear, ouch, I'm sor—ow!"_

For a petite and old woman, she had a strong grip, Zuko realized as she still held his good ear tightly.

"I'm very aware that trying to make love with my granddaughter was not the chore I assigned to you."

If there was anything worse than being caught making out with an old woman's granddaughter, then having her drag you out of the tent by the ear, then assigning you chores to do, it was one thing.

Giggles.

He glared at the small children giggling and smiling at the firebender. They pointed with chubby fingers, and red faces, with missing teeth in the front. The little girls made '_oooh!' _and '_ewww!' _sounds as he heard whispers about babies, steam, and such silly things that made the Fire Lord blush.

He was about to shove his head in the snow from the embarrassment, until he saw a head peak from his tent. With a bright smile, and a flirtatious wink, she waved her fingers at him.

With a goofy grin, Zuko waved back, frozen to the snow squishing under his feet as he watched his wife blow him a kiss then disappear back into the small blue tent.

More giggles.

He snapped back into the reality of the situation when he felt Gran-Gran tug on his ear, which he almost forgot was the reason why his ear was hurting so much. Looking down at the small children, he raised an eyebrow, as he let the old woman drag him to his doom.

They stopped in front of the new tent, as he sighed with relief when the woman let go of his ear, which he was pretty sure was just as red as the scar on his face.

Blushing, he was pushed into the tent where a pile of dishes awaited him, and the giggling just behind him grew louder, as he heard Gran-Gran's next remark which made him want to really shove his head in the stupid snow.

"As much as I don't mind you and Katara making me some grandchildren, could it please wait until after I finish my nap? I don't want any disturbing noises to wake me up."


	21. Heal

**a/n Sorry I haven't updated in forever! I've been at camp, volunteering fifteen hours of my life to the school, and super busy with last minute things. Ugh. Sorry! And, well, I've been reading too much spoilers, and it's got me really down and depressed. Again. D: So, I wrote this. **

* * *

"You lied,"

He watched as she let the words fall from her trembling lips, just like the tears from her glassy blue eyes. As he watched each tear spill down to the bloody ground, and each time they collided with the red earth, it was a tidal wave of regret, surging down over his weak body.

And it hurt. Those tears hurt, he realized.

Almost as much as those words.

"You promised us! You were supposed to help us! But you didn't. How could you_? Why?"_

This time, she steps closer, her blue eyes piercing him. Each syllable she screamed at him, would stab him and each question would slowly tear apart his already broken heart. Somehow, she was able to take the already broken pieces, and somehow she would be able to throw them back in his face, each and every time hitting him right where it hurt.

He felt his heart _bleed._

Couldn't she see she was killing him?

He wanted to scream right back at her, he wanted to stand to his fight, and the flicker of a dead flame burned in his veins as he thought of the idea of actually fighting her.

"You could have had the throne."

These words throw him off guard, as he lets out a gasp of breath, a trail of blood leaking out of his bruised mouth.

Pathetic. Pathetic, he thinks. He feels like dirt as he lays in his own puddle of flesh and blood, his amber eyes which match the ripped flag directly behind him, are locked on her blue ones, and he is unable to look away. Here she is, that _peasant_, is standing over him, spitting words at him that make him feel lower than dirt.

And _crying,_ he reminds himself.

He can see another tear fall, as she shakes her head at him, and a drop of red liquid follows that single drop of emotion, and he can also feel that same pain slowly slipping down his cracked heart.

"If you joined us, that could have been you sitting there right now. Not some firebending kid that I bloody don't know. You could have won! Don't you see that!? But your pride and your honor have blinded you once again."

He realized, that she was right. That all the plans he had been making, all the plans he had set and made ready, were too late and _useless._ He had his moment. A moment where he had the choice to determine his own path, and a chance to decide his own destiny. And he lost it.

That moment, Zuko realized, was when this same peasant had offered him the world.

All neatly packed up inside that pale blue container, where that holy water was waiting for him, beckoning his name, and when her soft hands brushed against his lips.

And it was when she had touched his scar.

_On his heart._

Snapping into reality, his golden eyes digged deep into her own eyes, as he somehow found his voice inside his beaten body. Gasping for air, he ignored the horrible pain in his chest, as he managed to crack his mouth open and let the question leak out.

"_Why_?"

There was no need to say anything else, to explain, because they were both thinking the same thing.

"Your father is dead. Your sister is dead. Your girlfriend is no where to be found."

That wasn't the answer he was looking for, but she was not even close to being done.

"I could kill you right now, just like Aang did to the rest of them. I could lock you up in the cell, and leave you there for the rest of your life. But I'm not."

Confused, he looked at her, and could only stare. He could feel something crack when he moved so suddenly, but the pain went unnoticed, because he doubted that he would ever feel more pain than this right now again.

"Now you know how I feel."

Wincing at the words, he groaned with pain as he heard her step closer. So close she was, as she leaned down in his bleeding face, and whispered her next words.

To tell the truth, they felt even more louder like that.

"You were lied to, deceived, tricked, and _betrayed_ by someone you trusted."

_Your sister, _are the unsaid words, that he doesn't need to be reminded.

"Now, feel my pain, Zuko. Mark my words, now you know how _I_ feel."

She was so close he could see the trail of dead tears, and he could see the broken gate in her crystal eyes, and the way her lip trembled at the sound of his name. But most of all, he could see the way her eyes lingered over his face, and the way the locked there when he looked up at her sorrowfully.

He wanted to die. And to tell the truth, he felt like he slowly was.

With that, she turned on her heel, biting her lip tightly as she hastily wiped away the smeared tears and blood on her dark face with the back of her shaking hand. Each step she took was heavier than the one before her, and each time she did, he winced at the sound of her leaving.

Again.

With her back facing him, it was then when she heard the sound that broke her heart.

"_Katara,"_

The sound of her name made her heart freeze, but her feet did quite the opposite, as she felt those dreadful tears return and rain from her aching eyes. She was unable to see, and unable to hear, the way he was struggling to form the words, the way he was using every bit of life in him to lift up his head and extend an arm toward her.

But somehow, without even looking, she knew.

"I'm sorry."

When she stopped in mid-step, she quickly realized, the choice she was making would change her life forever.

Slowly, she turned around, and let her eyes fall on him. Her dark hand shook as it reached down without thinking, brushing against the water skin resting against her hip. Stepping forward, she let the last tear fall as she looked him in the eyes.

Even if she had heard those words before, even if she had hated him for ever saying them before, this time, she knew. She knew those words were true, because so had the last ones. She knew just how much he _meant it. _

"Me too."

Because she did also.

As she stepped forward, and knelt down next to him, she did exactly what she never got to do before.

Heal.


	22. Just A Girl

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar or any of it's characters. **

**a/n: This took forever to write. About three days, and I actually liked it. A little confusing, I know, but heck, I did not just work three days to just throw it away. Enjoy. **

* * *

Is it possible to fall in love again? 

Zuko pondered the possibility, as he rested his chin against the palm of his hand. Such thoughts have always flown through his head, and each every time it did over the years, he realized, the more it became true.

It was as true as the fact that he was a married man.

With two dear children, a crown on his head, and a wife to love.

And it became even truer when he laid awake at night, restless and unable to sleep, with his eyes plastered to the ceiling. He could feel a hand on his chest, right above his panicking heart. The sound of soft snoring beside him blurred and faded away, as his amber eyes trailed to blue moon peaking inside his window.

Perhaps, it was then, when he realized just how in love he was.

And exactly just how _late._

_

* * *

_"_You know, I used to think you were a horrible monstrous man."_

_Her words pierced him, as he stands before her, his shadow towering over her small body._

"_And what do you think of me now?" _

_He growls his question, his lips snarling at the frozen waterbender, and only the sound of echoing footsteps rushing around them is heard through their moment of isolation from the uncaring world._

"_You're a boy," She can see the challenge in his eyes, but she ignores it, digging deeper through his fiery exterior to find the exact thing she was talking about, "Just a boy like Sokka, and Aang..."_

* * *

He never forgot her name. 

It was exactly ten years ago when the war ended, and he still remembers her last words on that day (_just a boy, just a simple boy)_ and he can't help but think about it. It all happened on that very day, that very day where they stood next to each other and fought for the fate of the world.

_And for their self._

Which was exactly the reason why he was sitting on that throne.

One thing has been pestering the back of his mind, for ages now, and it's always the same thought.

Zuko begs to know if he is still a boy in her eyes.

_He doesn't want to be, in fact, he wants to be so much _more.

Which was exactly the reason why as he stood from his chair, told his wife he'd be back soon, marched right past his guards and ignored the sound of shouts and the paper from his desk falling off his desk, that Zuko knew he needed to do something.

When one of his advisor's asked exactly where he was going, he just tossed an answer over his shoulder,

"I'm going to visit a friend, down south."

* * *

"_Is this goodbye?"_

_He freezes like a statue as he looks down with pure horror. Gasping, he falls to his knees and crawls over to where she is. Blood has covered her chest, as he carefully wipes away a stray hair from her face. _

_Among the red on her face, there is one color standing out, but slowly, even that too, is fading away and melting away to the very same color as she is coated in._

_Her blue eyes, he notes, are becoming even more dull by the second._

"_I guess so," Zuko breathes, as he feels his heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach._

_No! This could not be happening! Not now, they were finally something, they were supposed to be together after this horrible mess..._

_But a soft, yet strained, voice awakens him from his anger._

"_Do you remember my home in the South Pole?" _

_With wide eyes, he holds her hand tightly and can only watch as she gives him a small smile. It hurts, he knows, but yet, she does it anyway. Just for him. And only him. It could be her last..._

"_I do."_

_Her eyes seem to travel to another world, as a drop of blood oozes from her mouth. In the darkness of the night, he can see the glint of a knife in the sea of red that drowns her small brown body. She did always looked beautiful in red, but now, he would do anything in the world to see her in blue. Just one last time..._

"_You need to visit again. So I can take you to see the sunsets, and oh how wonderful the morning breeze. You have to meet my family, and the snow, the snow is the best thing...and Zuko?"_

_It's breaking his heart. It is making something wet appear behind his eye, as his hand trembles while he holds her tightly. Nodding, he manages to crack open his mouth and answer, "Yes?"_

"_Promise me you'll visit me?"_

_As she gives him one last smile, the very last smile of her life, just for him, he can feel his whole world collapsing right then and there._

"_I promise, Katara."_

_With the very last amount of life in her, she rips the necklace from her neck and shoves it toward him, and blinks her blue eyes at him._

"_See you soon," She whispers, before she slowly slips away to the blackness of the night, a small smile on her cracked and bleeding lips._

_Zuko unrolls his fist to reveal a broken blue necklace, as he choked on a sob, and bowed his head._

"_I promise."_

_And Zuko always keeps his promises._

* * *

Friends are made, friends are broken, but they are never forgotten. 

But what about the people who were _more_ than friends?

Zuko questions this thought as his feet squish against the hard snow, the soft breeze she once mentioned brushing against his frowning lips. Blue, the blue he once wanted so badly, taunts him front he corner of his eyes, but he keeps his eyes focused on the sunset ahead of him.

Promises, they were just big words.

This is the place he comes every time he needs to talk to her, to search for her, to question her.

It used to be a promise, when he did it ten years ago, but now it became his reason to live.

Blue eyes that are now where near as beautiful as hers glance at him, but they all know very well, and the keep out of his way. The crown on his head matches the golden sun, as it glitters in the daylight that is slowly vanishing.

"Katara,"

He whispers her name to the wind, as he watches the moon and the sun touch and kiss, exchanging places in the night sky.

He wished that were them.

But in a way, it was.

Back home, far away in another country, he was a married man. A married man with children, a happy family, and a nation to rule. He had a job, a home, and friends to keep in touch with. It was a beautiful place, it was where he belonged, but here, here it was so different.

He was not the Fire Lord.

He was not a husband.

He was not a father

He was not a man.

Zuko was_ just a boy_ in the eyes of a girl, as the moon shined down on him that reminded him so much of her last smile that would forever be with him.

Here, here was the place he could be with her.

He said he would visit her, and in that, he would forever keep his promise.

* * *

Zuko still ponders the thought. Is it possible to fall in love again? 

But as he hears the sound of his wife's soft footsteps, he can feel her dark eyes peaking over his shoulder a few days after he returned from his monthly trips.

"Who did that belong to?"

His wife's question suddenly became to the answer to his life long question, as he opens his fist to reveal a torn blue necklace, one that he keeps with him at all times.

Suddenly, everything is clear, as he bows his head and let's his amber eyes flood with memories of the past.

"Just a girl..."

And he was just a boy who fell in love with her just a little too late.


	23. Lucky Coins

**a/n: I am soooo sorry! I know I haven't updated in enternity, and I apologize so much! D: I've been so busy and loaded with homework. And I'm sorry that I'm giving you the shortest drabble. Ever. But, there's a catch! It's three parts. I plan to get the second part later this night or tomorrow. Promise. Sorry, once again!**

* * *

**(part 1 of 3.)**

**i. a**** lucky coin.**

"So, heads or tails?"

The dirty coin flipped into the air from the Avatar's fingers, the chipped and ridged side glimmering in the sun's light as all eyes followed the object up high into the blue sky, disappearing into the clouds as a gust of wind sent it spiraling upward, then back down to the hard earth below them.

"Heads."

Katara said the choice, as the coin flipped into the air, and she hardly noticed the side glance from the firebender beside her as she watched the coin fall swiftly near their feet.

They were all a team now, and it seemed strange that they were flipping a coin to decide something, but during this time of the world, nothing is considered normal anymore.

"It's heads."

All eyes turned toward her, and the blue eyes that stood out from the red outfit she was wearing, blinked with a hint of surprise. Turning her head toward Zuko, the gut feeling in her stomach that once was filled with hate, but now it boiled with an un-natural _wanting_ of trust, seemed to flutter. (_what__ were they called?, oh yes, butterflies.)_

She didn't like it.

With a sigh, and a forced groan, she hid her smile of relief and started walking.

"Looks like I'm going to be partnered with you to help steal your sister's evil plans…"

Zuko walked beside her, as he slightly glanced at her and gave a shrug.

"Who would I get if were tails?"

"Aang."

As they walked, Katara chose to ignore and push away the tempting thought of Zuko's comment after that, wishing desperately that the red on her face would go away, along the way he held her hand when they jumped from roof to roof in the busy city under the glow of the night's moon.

"_Lucky coin."_

Katara had flushed at his words.


	24. A Game of Chance

**a/n: Some fluff for a change.**

**

* * *

****(part**** 2 of 3)**

**i. a**** game of chance**

This was it.

At that very moment, his back slammed against the wall, and so did she next to him, their lungs panting for air. It was dark, as the sun hid behind the moon, and perhaps for the fact that they were hiding in a closet. Footsteps echoed, as guards passed the closet that they were currently abiding in.

"This is all you're fault!"

Her words hissed in his ear, and she was obviously blaming him for getting them caught.

"How was I supposed to know there were twenty armed guards around the corner?!"

Katara sent Zuko a glare, though, it made her angrier that he couldn't see it very well in the dark.

Panting breaths, she could feel her hand brushing against his, and neither moved. They only breathed, and the sound of a painful wheeze erupted from Zuko. At that very moment, he was not a firebender. And at that very moment, the Avatar was facing his father, and at that very moment, they realized something.

Time was running out.

And there was still unfinished business to be done.

"Let's flip a coin," Katara whispered, her eyes on Zuko's dark figure.

"What? Right now? You're crazy!"

But she was already slipping the _lucky_ coin from her pocket and pulling out, the cool metal digging into her calloused hand. Even in the dark, the shiny coin glittered, as he looked down and raised his only eyebrow.

"Heads, I'll kiss you."

Katara breathed, a blush appearing on her cheeks, as she felt his hand touch hers.

"And tails?"

Without a word, she tossed the coin into the air, where it landed with a small noise. Her foot immediately stepped on it to stop it from spinning, as she leaned in a little closer to the boy.

"Tails, we'll flip again."

Not taking a moment to hesitate, her lips dove into his, his hands finding her neck and pulling her closer into the kiss. Emotions exploded, as Katara breathed into his chest and let her foot move from the coin, her hands wrapping around him.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see the coin on the floor.

It was heads, and the face of the coin seemed to be smiling up at him from the floor.

"_Lucky coin,"_ he confirmed.


	25. Worlds Are Spinning

**(part 3 of 3)**

**iii. worlds are spinning.**

His world was turning.

Everything was just _not_ right.

With his back plastered to the floor, kept together only by the flesh on his ripped back, and by the melting will power in his body, he watched the world, and everyone in it, continue to move on without him there.

Can't they see him?

He's dying.

_Dying._

Blood is rushing from his body, but not quite as fast as the hope bleeding from his heavy heart. It's weighing him down, keeping him from rising to his feet, as the feeling of being left behind and forgotten holds him down with a force stronger than gravity.

Zuko choked out a cry.

Even if he did his part, even if he fought his father, and even if the Avatar is about to save the world, he can't help but wonder where all the good is left in this pain and suffering.

Sputtering out a trail of blood, his heart was hurting, and he was starting to feel the after pain of fighting your sister.

Not even his victory could drown out pain.

That's when he sees it.

A shiny object, rolling across the marble floors of his past home, found him. It stood out from the red on the walls and the color surrounding him, as it skipped down the hall and rolled near him. Slightly turning his head, so the corner of his amber eyes could see it better, he saw it.

The coin.

It was spinning, spinning, _spinning._

The shine of the coin glimmered in the little amount of light there was, and he could feel his mind jumble and spin right along with it, thoughts and memories twirling within the confines of his fading life. Blinking, he gave a groan as he panted a breath, red spilling as he did. It twirled, like a ribbon, spinning in an eternal dance. It summoned his attention, a soft ringing that hummed in his ear, drowning out the noise from a cruel world. Singing its metallic song, the coin glittered at him and winked with rays of sunlight, as he watched it carefully.

Then.

It stopped.

"Either this coin is lucky, or you're the luckiest man alive right now."

He didn't even have to look to know that voice.

Katara.

And before he could even blink, before he could even process, an overwhelming feeling of healing overcome him, and he was _breathing. _Water replaced blood, washing it away so he could finally see her again. And when he could feel his heart beating normally again, and when he felt something in his heart feel whole again, he realized something.

Something so very important.

The world didn't seem to spin like the coin anymore, the world didn't seem to forget or move on without him, because it was right there. His eyes focused on it, and it was because his world was right before him.

_She_ was his world.

Her lips smashed against him, tears falling from her face to his, as she muttered soft words into his shirt.

And his world would never leave him, never forget him, and never move on without him.

With her head resting against his chest, mimicking the rhythm of his beating heart, he confirmed it all.

He was a lucky man.


	26. Thin Ice

**a/n: Just a quickie becauuuseeee...tomorrow is S3!!!! -does a dance- This is really...not very orignial...Dx I know. I make Zuko get hurt alot, don't I? Darnit. Anyways, see if you can recognize the scene from the trailer in this quick (and very BAD oneshot). By the way, I deleted a chapter. Why, you ask? It's #3. Because it was Sokkla. xD And I decided it didn't really fit...anyways. Just something to keep you busy while you wait for S3 to come on.**

* * *

"I wonder if I have changed." 

It's whisper. A soft whisper that is only heard by the ancient walls of the palace, as he quietly echoes the words inside his head. The words are searching, digging, stabbing for truth, but there's a lie covering them like the crown on his head.

"_I thought you had changed!"_

Strange, he tells himself.

No.

_Unfortunate,_ he confirms.

How terribly miserable it was that he had to be the one who heard her whisper under her breath, who heard her cry, and how he (_a traitor to his heart) _had to be the one who looked into her eyes and heard her scream out the shattered hopes in her heart, all in just a blink of the eye.

"_I guess I thought wrong."_

They had been unsaid.

But they were shouted, screamed, yelled, and shoved into his face, all just by the way she looked at him.

And it hurt.

_It hurt so __bad._

Her hope had been standing on thin iceso very thin, but still there, (_barely)_ and still alive and breathing.

And he had _burned_ her.

He had melted the ground under her feet, sweeping her hope from where it stood, and pushed her down, down, _down_, into a hole of a dark fate. He had crushed her hope, the small spark of feeling she once held only for _him. _

Zuko could only guess it would be the last drop of emotion she would hold near her heart, ever again.

And he had _destroyed _it.

They would all have to wait for now.

His father (_and his honor), _his sister (_along with her lies_, a girl (_and her sweet kisses_), and the red walls that were slowly suffocating him like the smothering voice in his head. Pulling his hood over his head, he held his breath as he began his journey down a hall with too many memories.

He held a scar of the past, a regretful choice for the present, but the slate of the future was still blank.

So, he left.

He left to find the hope he had killed, bring it back to life again, and return it the girl he owed so much to.


	27. Meaningless

**warning: smallish spoilers for Season 3.**

a**/n: That new episode...I will only say one thing: OHMYGODAMAZING. Anyways, sorry if I haven't been updating, or if my oneshots suck lately. I've been super busy and super tired. So much homework. I aplogize for the rushed feeling and suckiness of this chapter. ...On another note. Is there anyone out there who wants to discuss the new episode in a civalized & serious manner? If you do, PM me for my AIM. **

* * *

He remembered their first kiss.

It had _meant _something.

Ignoring Ty Lee's giggles and teases, hiding from Azula everywhere they hid, and dodging stares from others, it had become a game.

But so had his fake smiles.

And so had the times he frowned behind her back and sighed when she wasn't looking. When she would cut him off during the middle of sentence and say something else. When he needed her most, when he felt so down, he found their relationship was just a bit too predictable.

Mai shed kisses as if they meant nothing, as if it were a routine he was being sucked into, and he didn't like it.

Zuko wanted—needed-- things to _mean_ something. Because as he each night passed while he lay awake in his bed, drowning in the royal red sheets with a snoring head right at his chest, he would think. He would think of his honor, his past, his father, the Avatar, and his Uncl—General Iroh.

He was starting to think he meant _nothing._

So he ached for those moments where he could mean something to someone, he yearned to have someone that he could _say_ he cared about (_uncle was a traitor, uncle was a traitor)_…and nothing liked to go his way anymore.

Those kisses, they were meaningless.

_"I asked if you were cold, not your life story."_

They kissed.

And she walked away.

As if it meant nothing.

Zuko lashed out these thoughts on Mai, his mind arguing against him _(you love her, she's perfect__, you love her don't you?_ as he continued to tear the bread in his hand apart, tossing it into the ripples of the pond.

The water.

The way it swayed, its tiny waves turning under the turtle-duck's feet, and how it uncontrollably spun and swirled before his amber eyes. How unpredictable, he realized just how beautiful such small details were.

It reminded him of someone.

_Her._

"_That's something we have in common."_

Had she meant something?

Could he, possibly for some reason beyond his understanding, have ever meant _something_ to _her?_

He _had_, Zuko reasoned.

But he had left that side, (_Lee, a man he used to be, died in __Ba__ Sing Se)_ and he was a little more than hesitant to look back. Blinking his eyes, Zuko thought about the waterbender—Katara, he remembered—as drops of water splashed against his hand.

Then, something blocked his wonderful view of the water.

A shadow, a shadow he had learned to be weary of, or have always been, anyway, approached from behind. His sister, his darling little sister, who's voice seemed to follow him wherever he went, looked down at him.

The turtle-duck's scurried away.

His trust, his loyalty, his belief was questioned.

Zuko remembered, he remembered well, that time in the caves under Ba Sing Se.

(_the__ oasis water would save the Avatar, the special water would heal him, those blue eyes…)_

Frowning down at the ground, he narrowed his eyes.

Of course the Avatar would live, _of course_ he would.

Why?

He meant something.

And the tears _she_ spilled for him meant something.

What did he mean to that blue eyed waterbender?

Nothing.

The very thought of that made him shake.


	28. Trip To Town

**a/n: Expect alot of fluff the next few chapters. And, I really like this one. :D**

**-x-**

"Can you please tell me again why exactly we are here?"

The question only melts away into a hum, vanishing into the rush of voices surrounding them. He expects his question to be answered immediately; after all, the golden crown on his head must mean _something_, especially to the likes of a peasant like _her._

Though, he hates to believe it, he suspects that the crown only adds more to the list of reasons why she teases him so much.

Without a word, she only grabs his hand, and begins to skip forward, leading him deeper into the crowd of people inside the market.

His head chants: _I don't belong here, I don't belong here…_

But Katara just glances over her shoulder just once, flashes him smile, and he's fine.

**  
-x-**

"Well, Lord Zuko, how did your date go?"

"It was _not _a date, Uncle."

"Oh?"

"It was a professional meeting for two grown adults."

"Which explains why you're blushing, am I correct nephew?"

He slammed the door behind his Uncle's laughter.

**  
-x-**

They do this every week.

Though, this time he doesn't wear his crown proudly on his head, since his peasant friend of his always decides they should go to the _poor_ sides of the city. In his not-so-royal-and-rich-and-ridiculously- expensive clothes, Zuko walked along side the Water Tribe ambassador.

"What in Agni's name are you doing, Katara?"

His only eyebrow arched high, confused and puzzled at the actions of this (_crazy)_ girl. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a fountain, candles and water sparkling with life. But his eyes were glued to Katara, as he paused in his step and shook his head at her.

_Click._

_Click._

_Click._

She was dropping money. On the ground.

"What?" She asked, looking from the spinning coin racing along side the cobble streets.

"You're wasting money. Do you know how stupid that is?"

Katara shrugged, another coin falling from the space between her fingers and rolling to the ground beneath their feet. It rolled and rolled, speeding and bumping over the cracks of the rocky road. For a moment in time, they both watched it, their eyes following the small coin and it's adventure across the world's dirty floors.

Looking up, she simply answer his question in one breath.

"Do you know what the face of a child looks like when they find a coin on the ground?"

In fact, he has no idea, but he imagines it to be beautiful _(but nowhere near as breathtaking) _like her smile.

"You're the craziest person I've ever met."

_(And I love you.)_

By the end of the night, both their pockets are empty, and the streets are shining with money.

**  
-x-**

"Do you know that feeling…when you just can't get someone out of your head?"

Their sitting on a bench, the syllables spilling out of his mouth the moment he felt her swinging legs brush against his skin. Her eyes are as bright as the moon behind them, locked on his, as she bites her lip and nods her head.

"You know what they say. If you can't get someone out of your head, maybe they belong there."

Tilting her head, Katara rested her head on her palm, her lips tugging into a smile. The bench let out a squeak, complaining because they have sat in that same exact place for the last three years.

_(Three years, five months, and exactly seventeen days, he remembers.)_

With a soft voice, she looked him square in the eye and asked a question he as hoping she wouldn't.

"Why?"

Zuko shrugged, his eyes trailing back down to the ground.

"No reason."

The hand inside his pocket stroked a necklace he had made himself, and from the corner of his eye, he could see the glimmer of a coin.

**  
-x-**

"So, how was your…._professional meeting?"_

"Well, Uncle, we'll just say we settled some much needed business."

_(And I'm getting married.)_

Iroh smiled, knowing without a doubt what the smile on his nephew's face meant.


	29. Seduction

**a/n: Sorry for the delayed updates. Been so busy! So...here I come...with a small update...that is crack...**

You wanna know what my response to Maiko is? THIS. 

**(How Zutara should become canon:)**

**-x-**

"Oh _Zuko__,"_

A playful laugh escaped the lips of a girl, as her hands ran through his hair. His smirk lingered on her pale skin, leading a trail of kisses that fell on her neck. A candle flickered, the aroma of cherry blossom bursting through the confined room.

"I _love_ it when you express yourself," Zuko grinned, his lips nearing her ear.

Mai's eyes rolled back, as the red silk sheets of the bed gracefully tumbled off like water, and his arms wrapped around her waist. His lips tickled her ear, as his eyes fluttered closed, and suddenly he felt as if were somewhere else. It was all so wonderful, all so amazing, all so perfect—

"_I'll save you from the pirates_."

Suddenly, it seemed, he was choking.

On his words.

He looked down to see narrowed _(not blue)_ eyes and a girl who did not seem to be very seduced.

"What?"

Zuko slept outside that night.

Under a full moon.

"Stupid peasant."


	30. Complaining Is A Disease

**a/n: ****Started a 30 kisses challenge. Enjoy all the future fluff (and little angst) I have planned. (My prompts will be out of order, because I'm like that.) **

**prompt**** #21 – a good company?**

* * *

"I'm sick."

His dry and blunt comment was stifled behind the cloth of a hanky, a sneeze quickly following. Sniffling, the Fire Lord smacked his chapped and tasteless lips, his stuffy and red nose as bright as the candle burning next to him.

"Oh really, Fire Lord Obvious?"

Zuko glared at the smiling woman who he dared to call his wife. Sinking lower into sea of red sheets, he sloppily narrowed his eyes as he felt the Fire Lady continue grin at him. With the silky blankets tucked up to his chin, Zuko grumbled as he snapped back at her smart answer and frowned through the fabric.

"Well, why don't you heal me or something?"

Katara snorted.

"Look here, mister, it's only natural and healthy for the human body to get sick. It's good for you every once in a while. Besides, when was the last time you haven't worked? _Ages_ ago. Now, dear, this could be the very thing you need. Rest."

"Worst vacation _ever." _

Rolling her blue crystal eyes, the Fire Lady sat on the bed next to the Fire Lord's complaining form, and tucked the sheets nice and tight around his body. So it seemed that when Zuko was sick, he was worse than her brother on a diet. Wait till she told Toph, the blind girl might not even believe it. (She hardly did herself, until she looked down and saw her husband glaring at her). 

"What?"

"My _lovely_ and _wonderful_ wife who happens to be sitting next to me is the world's most powerful waterbender, healer, and not to mention a headstrong stubborn and demanding—"

"Ahem."

"—_beautiful_ woman—"

"Better."

"—who I happen to love deeply, is not going to take a few minutes of her time to heal me?"

"Nope."

Sighing, Zuko sank deeper into the bed as he tapped his fingers against the edge of the bed. He didn't move when he felt his wife cuddle close to him, her head resting on his shoulder. Her long hair was down, and it scattered and covered them both like a blanket. She said nothing as she found his hand under the covers, and squeezed it tight. And he couldn't help it, whether it was the fact he had just realized for the first time in five years that the way a piece of her curled sharply at the end as it tickled his already itchy nose was extremely cute, or because he was a softy at heart like his wife told him all the time, he squeezed back.

Despite her actions of not healing him.

"You know, honey, after you feel better, I think the idea of taking a vacation is needed."

Zuko lazily looked at her, his golden eyes peering over her long brown hair. "Why?" He asked, his stuffy nose scrunching up as he sorely grunted when he felt his headache slowly make its return.

"Zuko, I'm worried about you," Katara sat up, her hand still clutching his, "You never get out, you never have any free time, all you do is work! You need a hobby! You need a break! You need _friends!" _

"…I have friends." 

"Really?"

"Yes. Really. In fact, I have a _best friend." _

Katara's mouth parted, her eyes snapping wide at the statement. At her surprise, Zuko felt just the _tiniest_ bit hurt that his wife would think he was some lonely guy without a life. Hands on his chest, she curiously looked at him and asked, "Who?" 

With a forced whisper, and the tiniest bit of embarrassment, he answered.

"You."

The features on Katara's face softened, a smile tugging at her lips. With a squeak, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Zuko smiled under her embrace, even if it was for a fact that her hair was starting to itch his face.

"Oh Zuko!"

Shrugging, Zuko smiled as the glow in his eyes radiated from a certain pride that came from his wife's simple words. Blinking, Katara brushed a stray hair from his face as she locked her blue eyes on his. With a gentle fluttering of his eyes, Zuko leaned into to kiss the woman he loved.

But instead, he sneezed.

"….Ew."

...And Zuko knew that this was going to be a yucky day.


	31. Late for a Date

**Prompt #13 – hourglass**

**.x.**

Time.

It ticked away.

Synching with the beats of his thumping heart, the sands of time were vanishing, and ever so softly like the rain drops against the tin roof. It was silent, just like the jet black night, and the evening rain that brought the breeze from the north tasted terribly bitter.

"I will not fight you."

And so he said his words that were as firm as the golden crown on his head, and held his head as high as the worried moon. His words had been forced through the gritted teeth, and gnawed against his burning temper. But yet, he contained his control, and held back his impulse to _break these fools. _He had a name and a throne to protect, and a nation to prove to, and this was what he told himself.

"On the contrary, Fire Lord, we will."

Harsh words spat from their lips, several glances passing, and several different thoughts stabbing the wet walls of the inner dark alleys of his reigning nation. Their disgusting smirks made him tremble to explode, but instead he neatly folded his hands behind his back and inhaled to keep his patience.

"You're a traitor to your own flesh and blood, you despicable rat. How in Agni's name you got the throne is the worst mistake in history, and today, is the day you will go down."

_Filthy peasants. _

Didn't these filthy peasants know that this very day, this very moment in time, was possibly the worst day on earth for his absence? Hiding a displeased scowl, he clutched his fists. Didn't these horrible and sickening men understand that he was going to be late? Late, late, _late. _

Late for a date. 

"Look, we're all men. I'm sure we can work this out nicely."T

hat's when Zuko falls.

His cheek met with the concrete of the stone floor, bloody red kisses erupting from his skin. And it hurts, it hurts almost worse than the fact he's _so late._ Something collided with his ribs, as he grimaced into the wet dirt, rain stinging his shut eyes. He refuses, and he refuses so, so, _so hard_ to not get up and teach these rebels a lesson.

Because he is the Fire Lord, and even through suffering, the Fire Lord does not hurt his people.

"How do you like that, Fire Lord? Should we bow down to you now?" A heavy boot stepped on his back, pushing Zuko harder against the muddy floor, his face growling into the dirt. His fist is clutched tightly as years of meditation are crunched and drilled into the back of his head.

The rain kept crying.

"_Zuko_!"

Suddenly time, the one who loves to keep him late, stops. It froze as cold as the bitter rain, everything pulling into a speeding halt one second at a time. And the rain, the beautiful rain, was the only thing that continued to breath. Its icy breath stung his wide eyes, as the broken Fire Lord slowly trailed his eyes from the shameful ground and up, up, up past the mud and blood.

"Katara!"

Without another word, or even a chance to breathe, hands reach out and hold her back. One by one filthy, dirty hands grabbed her wrist and pulled them back. One slaps her across the mouth, stifling her scream that made his blood run cold. It's terrifying, he knows, and it hurts worse than _anything._

"Oh look. A pretty little peasant for the Fire Lord," Words from a stranger leave a horrible taste, Zuko realizes.

Her small struggling form against brute men's hands tore his heart, and at that very moment, he narrowed his eyes.

Right now, right then, he wasn't the Fire Lord.

He was a man _(in love)._

"No!"

Blood pumping, and heart beating, Zuko rose to his feet. A loud growl passed his lips, as he threw everything but the rain off of him. Punching his fists in the air, his golden eyes glittered and his steps were strong.

And then they fell.

They all fell, like seconds in time, as he grabbed her hand and ran for anywhere but there.

Slipping behind a deserted building, they fell to their knees as their backs met with the wall. Panting, they stared at each other, unsaid words lingering on their trembling lips. He was freezing, but it didn't matter one bit as her hand cupped his face.

"Zuko…"

"I'm sorry I was late."

Softly, he blinked his amber eyes, and whispered a secret as he leaned his forehead against her. The water from the sky causes everything to be so slippery and wet, as their bodies squeak against each other. It doesn't matter; nothing matters any more, because they were so incredibly late.

"Nobody calls you a pretty peasant but me."

Without another word they kissed to make up for loss time.


	32. Make This Go On Forever

**a/n: I need to update more. D: Sorry. I promise I'll put some more up soon. Promise. **

Prompt #3 - Unexpected 

-

-

-

"Fire Lord Zuko!"

A gasp escaped the lips of a fair maiden, air desperately clinging to her lungs. With all her strength she threw her arms at the giant and golden door, opening the massive entrance with a loud groan. Nearly falling over, she placed a hand on her chest and struggled to find her breath, as a worrisome frown was painted across her face, hair falling from her neat bun."

What is the meaning of this, maid Ming?"

Searching for words, she leaned against the frame, her chest heaving up and down at the loss of breath. In the room of and under beautiful artwork that dressed the dark room was the Fire Lord himself, a golden crown sitting on his head. Both annoyed, and angry, the Fire Lord stood to his feet, his amber eyes narrowing like knives.

It really wasn't the best time to interrupt a political meeting.

"It's—It's, the Fire Lady, your lord! I was in the kitchen and all of a sudden I heard her screaming like crazy for you! She sounded as if she were in trouble and desperate! So I ran to come and get you and I've already sent the guards to check over there as we speak—"

Her words were sliced in half by the sound of his fist slamming against the table.

It shook the room.

"Where is Katara?"

"I-In the s-s-study, sir, I think."

Just as the words were spoken his chair was tossed to the side, millions of papers from the table spilling next to it. The men around the table muttered and whispered, standing to their feet as well. Curiosity got the best of them. Without another word, Zuko dashed out of the room, the sound of his feet slapping violently against the marble floors. The maid, the two guards next to the door, the Earth King, the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe, and the boy who was supposed to wash windows but for some reason wasn't at that moment, followed quickly after him.

"Katara!"

Raising his voice, he panted as he turned a corner, nearly knocking over a darn vase as he did. Shoes squeaked behind him, but he ignored it. A painful grimaced was plastered to his face, his heart beat racing and racing and it felt as if his blood was running colder, freezing his veins and choking his heart.

"_Katara!__"_

The seconds killed him.

And the minute it took to get there nearly murdered him.

Finally, he arrived at the door a surprised guard standing in the hallway. Opening his mouth to say something, "Lord Zuko, your—", but before he could finish Zuko shoved the man in the chest, roughly to the side. Panic striking his strained heart, he franticly stumbled to the door and made his way through. Inside, he heard the very sound of his death.

_"__Zuko__!"_

Opening the door with trembling hands, he fell in. Zuko felt his knees shake, a dark and treacherous fear stabbing and stabbing him in his weakest spot. On his feet, just barely, he scanned the area with dread. His golden eyes were almost too afraid to look, to fearful to know what was going on, because what if something had happened? What if Katara wasn't okay? What if their only _child_ wasn't okay?All of this ran through his head in just a second.

"Katara, I'm here!"

And there she was. He found her.

On the floor.

Yes, the Fire Lady was on the floor. And she was smiling up at the Fire Lord. On her stomach, she propped her elbows on the cold floor. Uncaringly, her blue skirt and robe was flowing around her. It reached to her knees, revealing her long, bare, chocolate legs. Only in her morning robe, she happily smiled at the crowd of people standing at the door of the study. With her long, wavy hair cascading down her back, she blinked her crystal blue eyes.

"What took you so long?" She asked simply.

Zuko gaped at his wife.

And his son.

Sure enough, his year old son was in front of his wife. And he was walking. _Walking. _His oldest and only son cooed, his tiny, chubby fingers snatching at the air. The blue eyed boy with curly black hair looked up at his father, grinning a bright smile.

"But…what…how…."

"Look! He's walking, Zuko, our son is walking! Koda is walking!"

The excitement in her voice pitched, as she outstretched her arms, the morning light shining on her face. His son tumbled, losing balance on his slowly growing legs. Falling into the arms of his mother, little Koda squealed. And Katara squealed. She laughed, and she giggled, and she brushed her nose against the little scrunched up nose of her child, smiling as bright as the sun.And perhaps, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Before him was not the world's best waterbender, or a hero to the past, or a healer with gentle hands or even the famous fighter who had inspired the world. It was his best friend, his wife, his lover, the woman who had put together the broken pieces of his heart, who showers him with her random acts of kindness, who taught him to see the little things to a whole new world, who surprises him all the time, the woman who would one day kill him with a heartache because of that, and his world.

_That_, was Katara. His Katara.

Slightly lost, as if he had forgotten everything but that moment, he unconsciously walked over and sat next to his wife. Kissing the woman who always gave him too many surprises on the forehead, he then kissed his son softly on top of the head, his hand running across the fluffy hairs on his little head.

Dazed, he didn't remember the people behind him, and just simple smiled as his wife laughed and his son gurgled. Because nothing mattered at that moment. Nothing but the two most beautiful people in the world.

"You're sweating and smell bad." Katara remarked, as she watched her husband stroke both her and Koda's hair.

"I know." He simply answered with a relieved and remarkable and proud smile.

It was unexpected, but yet, so was she.


	33. Something of a Misunderstanding

_a/n: I don't know about how many parts this will be, just until I run out of ideas I suppose, and yeah. I am making myself update more, people! Yay for me. P.S. I love the title the best. xD Oh, and I tried a different take and point of view._

_(I'm taking a little break from the kisses challenge.)_

**The Remarkable Adventures and Trials of Zuko in Parenthood.**

**Part One: Something of a Misunderstanding**

-

-

-

"Sokka, I've got a problem."

"What, Zuko?"

"Okay, so lately, Katara has been in a _terrible_ mood. All she does is hang out in the kitchen, gossiping and eating and whispering with those old maids who cook, and she's been moody as the weather! Not to mention she keeps avoiding and getting angry at everything I say."

"Is that it?"

"..Yeah."

"Ah."

"No. No, no, no, no, _no_! Don't sit there and rub your imaginary beard and laugh at my troubles! You're acting like my Uncle now! When I tried talking to him, all he did was laugh at me—hey stop that!"

"Zuko, you're pathetic. Are you really too oblivious to tell that Katara is just having a nine month problem? And _you _are the cause of it, really, in a way I'd rather not explain."

"…Are you implying my dear Katara is trying to have a divorce because of _me, _water peasant!?"

_T__hunk. __Thunk. __Thunk. Thunk._

_"…_Sokka. Can you please stop hitting your head against the table and answer my question? _Now! _I don't have all the time in the world for you and your stupid behavior, even if you are my brother in law._"_

"I'm the stupid one? Oh, Mr. Big Fire Lord, you can't be talking."

"What? Don't insult me you inept, idiotic, obnoxious, warr—"

"Katara's pregnant, smart one."

"—huh?"

"Yeah, she's pregnant, and you're to blame. So, if I were you, I would start going to bed early. And if you ever have a problem, maybe you should…oh I don't know, talk to her? Yeah, that sounds good, buddy. Hey, don't give me that face; I'm just helping you out. If you ever need me, just give me a call."

_"_…I'm dead."

"What is it now?"

"Well, I didn't know…and now…And I…I…did the…the unthinkable and I'm going to regret it.."

"…_No!_ Did you…did you remark that she was…"

"Gaining weight."

"Oh you're a dead, dead, dead, man, Zuko."

_"ZUKO! GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE!"_

"Please, Sokka, you gotta help me!"

"Yeah right, man, I gotta leave."

"…I hate you."

"You too. Next week a good day for lunch, again?"

"If I live, sure."


	34. Rumors

The Remarkable Adventures and Trials of Zuko in Parenthood.

Part 2 – rumors  
-

-

-

"Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy—"

"_What_, Koda?"

Internally groaning, the Fire Lord rubbed his temples and peered over his stack of papers. Over the many files and complaints and documents that drove him insane, Zuko saw his young son curiously looking up at him with his golden eyes. Exhaling a sigh, he repeated again with a calmer tone.

"What is it?"

Koda, the prince of the Fire Nation, nodded his head and recollected his son. Standing straight, he licked lips and stood on his tip toes to see over the tall and dark desk his father lived in.

"Okay, okay, well daddy, I gotta asks you somethings."

Zuko leaned forward in his chair, blinking down at his son.

"Go ahead."

Koda hesitated, the words almost afraid to leave to leave the tip of his tongue. Zuko urged him on, nodding at the boy. Still on his toes, he tapped his little fingers against the wood and tilted his head up at his father.

"..Is…is it true you tied Mommy to a tree?"

Oh great.

"…Uh…yes, I did, a long time. W-When I was a different person."

Zuko had vowed a long time to never lie to his family, ever. He would never be the man his father had been. If it included his shameful secrets of the past, then it would have to. Their children should not be hidden away from the past, the future, or stories of the war. They were the royalty of the Fire Nation, the children of the war's heroes.

"Who told you that?" Zuko asked, curious as to who say such a thing.

"Uncle Aang," Koda said with a shrug, tracing his finger along the edge of the desk.

As If he remembered something important, Koda's eyes brightened and lit up. With a smile, he looked anxiously back at his father and spilled another question.

"Ooh! Were you really a' scared of Mommy when you were tra-ve-ling with Uncle Aang?"

Zuko scoffed, repeated the question with a sputtering cough of surprise."S-Scared? Who told you that!?"

"Auntie Toph…"

Slamming his fist on the desk, he stood to his feet and looked down at his son who watched him with a muffled giggle. What was with this? Was the whole world talking about him behind his back? _To his son?_And who really cares if they were true so far?

"What else have they told you?"

"Oh..uh…that…you were a big faced jerk with bad hair and bad aim and no sense of humor—"

"Uncle Sokka?""Yeah.""Well, that's no surprise, he tells me that everyday."

"Oh…and…daddy?"

"Yes?"

Koda paused, his nose scrunching and his lips turning sour. He fumbled for the words, his big eyes narrowed in concentration. Zuko watched with a bemused expression, his one eyebrow arched high.

"..What does s-s-_sex__-__y_ mean?"

"What?! Who in Agni's name told you that word? Was it Toph? No! It was probably your Uncle Sokka, wasn't it? Oh, I'm going to hurt that peasant fool so he knows who he is dealing with—"

"Actually, it was Mommy."

"M-Mommy? Mommy told you this word?"

No longer curious or amused, Koda stepped back and gave another half shrug, half nod. "Yeah, she you were…_s-sex-y_, whatever that word means." With a sigh, he skipped to the door and grinned at his dad.

"I'm gonna go make super fish and jerky stew with Uncle Sokka now, daddy."

With a disbelieving laugh, Zuko fell back in his chair and rubbed his temples once again.

"Kids, _and my wife_, say the craziest things."

Outside in the hall, Katara giggled.


	35. Among Thieves

**a/n:** I AM BACK AND ALIVE. I apologize for my long absence. I've been writing in LJ, but I've been neglecting my poor fanfiction people. I'm so sorry! But I am back now. And I come with four drabbles to help make up for it. Two which have been posted on livejournal, and the other two brand spanking new just for you guys.

* * *

"Look at them, just _look_ at them."

Beneath the dark cave, their safety for the night from the pouring rain, their eyes drifted to the distance in front of them. But outside of the cave, and in the heavy downpour, echoed a trail of laughter.

Soaked in water, a waterbender and firebender struggled in the mud. Katara threw her head back in laughter as her grip around Zuko's hand slipped and the tired firebender fell back on his rear end. His glare held no effect on the giggling waterbender, probably due to the fact he was smiling_. "Can't you get up__, clumsy__?" ("I twisted my ankle and you're the one supposed to help me to the shelter, you peasant!")_

In the cave, next to the glimmer of a fire, Sokka sighed.

They stared at the exiled prince who had been given_ so_ much. Acceptance, forgiveness, second chances. But none of those would be true if it weren't for one person. _Aang. _It had been the Avatar who decided of all this, and no one else.

And yet, in return, Zuko had taken even _more _back from him.

They watched as Katara laughed, falling on the muddy ground next to the firebender, a giant wet smile on her tan face. He laughed, oblivious that the waterbender had deeply, madly, and hopelessly fallen in love with him.

Sokka glanced at Aang, his face twisting at the boy who loved (and _always_ has, since the very beginning) his sister. "Are you just going to watch and let this happen?!"

The Avatar watched, the rain falling harder now, and let his lips fall into a frown as he turned to leave.

"Yes, " He answered with a crack in his voice, "I am."

Her happy laughter echoed, and his heart followed the falling rain.


	36. Path To Destiny

**a/n:** Second of the new four of my return! Oh, this was posted on LJ. But part of the ending has been re-written due to popular suggestion. Thanks if you're reading this, those who know who you are.

* * *

"D-Did you—"

"No. I burned your letter."

She stopped, and she stared, leaning her back against the cold metals of the cell. He was a prisoner of war at this very moment, a man who failed his duty and was captured while the others pressed on without him, and he was the man she once loved (and still does).

"How could you leave me like that?" Mai asked slowly, "Why?"

With tattered clothes, he breathed slowly, bowing his head shamefully. He would not, could not, look at her now. So he just stared at the floor, examining his burned hand that his sister had expertly damaged. Right now, he knew. The Avatar would be fighting his father soon. The others would be right by his side. Blinking furiously, he only remembered a few things.

His sister.

Lightning.

And the cold, hard floor.

So, after all, his part was done. He had protected the Avatar while he escaped and that was that.

"I had to follow my destiny, Mai," Zuko whispered, "And I'm sorry."

Folding her arms, she shut her eyes and tried to understand. "You never loved me did you?" Despite the crack in her voice, her face was emotionless. Pale and hard, like a bone, but so fragile, and so breakable. "All of that was a lie, wasn't it?" She began to wonder who really was more vulnerable in this cell. The boy who was tied to the chair, or _her._

"No, Mai, you have to understand, that's not it all—"

She stood straight, returning her frown back to the taut line on her face, letting her arms fall by her side.

"Oh no, Zuko. That's just it. I _do_ understand."

Heavy footsteps echoed outside the door.

"Zuko, you've changed from the boy I fell in love with a long time ago—"

He looked up.

"—And how am I supposed to be part of someone's destiny that I barely know anymore?"

Blinking up at her, he felt his heart beat like a drum, thumping with this guilt and the blood of the old Zuko still in him. But he has changed, just like she said. And she was right. Nodding, he swallowed the tiny amount of regret in him and looked her in the eyes.

"Mai, I never meant to hurt you in anyway, and I'm sorry if I ever did. I just did what I had to do…I had to leave because this just wasn't my home anymore. I had to do my part in stopping this war. It was my destiny."

Suddenly, the door of the cell he had been locked in flew open, the limp metal door flung to the side.

"Zuko!"

Without hesitation, Zuko's face lit up at the worried voice, his eyes brightening with a light Mai has never seen before. "_Katara__!"_He called out, turning his head to see the waterbender at the broken door, her blue eyes staring cautiously at the girl guarding him. There was a crack in his voice, a desperation that he has never spoken to her before, a need, a wanting, and a hopeless _love._

There was a sudden realization in his voice. One that Mai saw before he even did.

Mai stared back, her ebony fingers reaching for her knives hidden in her sleeves.

"Please," Zuko whispered, "Please."

And there was a look on his face, one that she could not recognize, but knew what it was. There was a longing to escape, to be with the water peasant, and she should have saw it coming the moment he heard his name be called. Why hasn't he ever looked at _her_ like that before?

Mai gripped the knife.

And she flung the sharp blade with no hesitation, and a perfect accuracy.

It hit the target.

The rusty keys dangled from sharp knife.

Katara opened her eyes, blinking at the sharp weapon embedded into the wall next to her head. Just an inch from her skull, nothing more and nothing less. She held her breath, slowly looking back at the other girl with certain uncertainty. But understanding, always understanding. She didn't have to thank her, even if her life had been spared. It would mean nothing. Snatching the keys, she dove for Zuko's chains and unlocked them, her eyes on Mai as the metal fell to the floor loudly.

Zuko smiled at Mai, a small one, if just for the sake of the world.

"Thank you Mai. For understanding, for everything."

She watched him run behind the waterbender, taking her hand and following her out into the darkness. For a moment, he glanced back, an eternal and grave thankfulness in his eyes. His beautiful golden eyes. She chose to ignore it, waving a (fake) careless hand at him. Mai was left alone. Like always, except this time, it would be the very last.

"Yeah, you go follow that destiny of yours, Zuko."

_Her._


	37. A Reason

"Zuko—no!"

It was a plea, a desperate beg as she called out to the firebender. Her back slammed against the wall, Katara looked up, her ajar lips caked in a stinging blood (a nasty blow from a nasty fall). Zuko stopped and stared at her, halting to a slow mid stop before he ran off.

"W-Where are you going?" A pause, another drop of blood, "Are you leaving me?"

This was the final day, the day where there was no second chances, no room for mistakes or wasted moments. But he paused, and held his breath, if just for a moment.

"They need me over there, to fight in the west wing. The comet will be here any second. I'm a firebender, remember?"

_And I'm a __waterbender__…_

He saw her face tense, her eyebrows furrow and a frown across her red cherry lips. She was cracking under his eyes, afraid and alone, and lost like her big blue eyes in this dreaded battle. This was Katara, the most powerful waterbender, a strong warrior, a fighter, and yet. She was afraid of being alone among the war filled air.

And _this _was they were fighting.

For the people, whether strong or not, who were afraid.

If Katara was afraid, the mighty mother of all, then what hope was left?

"Wait—"

Zuko slipped his hand with hers, tangling their fleshy digits and holding on tightly to whatever was left of them. Just as the walls began to crumble, and the sound of marching feet came, he pulled her behind him, keeping her close. Hand in hand, he whispered to the waterbender with a whisper as hoarse their tired hearts.

"You're coming with me, Katara. We fight together."

Together, there was less to be afraid of, and more to trust in.


	38. The Royal Pair

**a/n: **I like this one. A lot. There you go, I hoped you enjoyed these four updates! (Late Christmas gift, I guess?) I promise, I swear on Zutara, there _will _be more updates. Happy holidays.

* * *

Toph _loves_ the idea of being a nice big, happy family.

The rest of the gang believes that she does just a little _too _much.

"Hey you two!" She called out, throwing one hand on the waterbender's shoulder, the other one on the new firebender next to her, as she squeezed herself in the middle of the two and purposely made sure they were a heck of a lot closer than before. "Would you guys like to hear my new nickname for Prince Charming over here?"

Said Prince Charming groaned, not liking the question or the tight grip of Toph's hand as she pulled them in closer.

"Okay, okay, come in closer to hear. It's a secret."

They seriously doubted it, but just to please the little earthbender, they obeyed. With a hidden grin on her dirt grit face, she blindly (not really) reached out for them. Grabbing Zuko by the front of the shirt and Katara by the arm, pulling them even closer, Toph hushed her voice. They had to bend over to reach her level, their cheeks just barely brushing as they waited for the secret.

Toph relished the moments she felt their hearts beat, purposely taking a long time as she gloated on the inside.

Finally, as she tugged them even closer, she leaned forward and whispered (not quite so) softly for them to hear. Her grip loosened, as the three benders looked pretty silly just bent over and listening for their doom.

"As you know, Katara is Sugarqueen," She pointed to her, then at Zuko, "…and now Zuko is _King Sourpuss_!"

_"What?!"_The two cried, staring at the smirking short earthbender.

"Sweet and sour, king and queen, boy and girl, I think it fits the two of you just perfectly. You do both make a nice couple, and it's about time you guys stop hiding it and just accept it."

Before they could even move from where they stood, or change the proximity of their distance, or to even realize they were both blushing madly and might have a heart attack soon due to their racing hearts, Toph slammed her heel into the ground, sending the earth below the two soaring into the air.

_Fly love__ birds, fly!_

It was a cruel thought, but Toph was only doing what was necessary and needed.

Besides, this was just _too _much fun.

Sugarqueen and King Sourpuss landed in a heap of a tangled mess on the ground, somewhere far away from they had just stood.

For a moment Toph wondered if Katara had broken Zuko's ribs or something by the way she landed _on_ him. That worry didn't last long. Giggling her girlish laugh, she had to make sure _her_ rib cage didn't break as she clung to her stomach and laughed her little devious heart out. Collapsed Zuko groaned under Katara as the waterbender tried to hide her bright flushed face in his chest. Until they both realized exactly what had just happened and the cackles of a demon reached their ears.

_"TOPH!"_

As soon as they both could get up and recover from such traumatizing events and broken back (like, in an hour maybe?) ...Toph was going to _pay_.

"Yes your majesties? Oh don't worry about it, you can thank me later, I can tell you're secretly enjoying this."

Ah yes, family.


	39. Sick Of You

**a/n: Written quickly. Just a bunch of ideas put together roughly, and excuse the OC'ness. They act so nice around each other because this supposingly takes place later one. Like after my oneshot 'Children of War'. (Read, please?) So, that's why they seem pretty OC. xD **

* * *

"You look and sound like a dying pig or something."

_"Excuse me?"_

There was one less bowl for dinner as Katara promptly threw it at Zuko's head.

**.x.**

For the rest of the night, it was obvious that Zuko was not a liar. Although, it was also true that he wasn't very smart about thinking before speaking, but they all already knew that.

Katara, by all means that night, did _not_ look good.

Knees tucked at her chest, and arms hugging them tightly, she shivered slightly even if the night was warm and sticky. Choking on her coughs, a tangle of a mess hacked at her throat; she refused to look at anyone. She simply gushed down her waterskin, the drips of water matching the beads of sweat on her forehead.

"It's cold you guys, you better put on another shirt or jacket—Toph, don't you want some shoes?—and my Spirits, isn't anyone else freezing?"

They looked at her strangely, shaking their heads.

Confused, she furrowed her brow, her face paling a ghastly color by the second. Katara's body tensed, a rock churning in the pit of her stomach. (_"Nobody else is cold?")_ But even if she felt her fingers turn numb, shaking and shaking like her knees, and the sound of her chattering teeth, she refused to accept the thoughts that raced through her head.

"Hey Sugarqueen, are you okay?"

Standing to her feet, she ignored the exchange of looks between the others, as she waved a careless hand.

"I'm fine, perfectly fine. Stop looking at me like—oh great, which one of you put all the meat in this soup?—and no, Sokka, I'm not pregnant, so leave me alone with that look you're giving me—"

Katara bent down to lift the bowl, covering her mouth with one hand to muffle down her lung blowing coughs.

"Honest to Agni Katara, you do _not _look okay."

Narrowing her eyes, her icy glare straight at Zuko, she gripped the bowl a little tighter. A sudden feeling washed over her. _(Anger?__Annoyance?__Impatience?_ _It had to be!)_The feeling flooded through her head, and all the way to her stomach and feet, overwhelming and sickly. "I swear if you don't shut up—"

But then suddenly, as if the glare she was sending him were too heavy, she felt the bowl fall from her hands and her breath escape directly from her voice. _Why was the world spinning?_

For the second time that day the bow flew dangerously close to Zuko's head.

He had no time to think of it as he gasped and scrambled to his feet to pick up the collapsed waterbender.

_"__Katara__!"_

**.x.**

"Ugh."

_What in Spirits name happened? What time is it? Where am I? Who—_

"Ugh?" A pause, a teasing grin, "That's the first thing you say after you slept for two days and made us worried sick?"

_AndwhyisZukosittingonmybedandtalkingtomeandwhatisupwiththismessedupworld?—_

Katara squeaked, pulling the covers of the (oddly) soft bed all the way to her chin. As she did, she groaned, still shivering beneath the mass of blankets weighing her down. "What happened?" Groaning, she blinked at the firebender sitting on the edge of the bed. But as she did, a massive headache overwhelmed her stuffy nose, her narrowed eyes looking at the grinning Zuko.

"What happened?" Katara roughly asked, "All I remember is throwing a bowl at your head and—"

"That's because you passed out. While we were trying to tell you that maybe you didn't look so good and that you were _sick._ But, being the stubborn person you were, you didn't listen and according to Toph your body just kind of shut down and collapsed."

_"_I'm not sick—"

Katara coughed, which was followed by a sneeze, and finally a sniffle.

Zuko simply raised an eyebrow, tightening his arms as he gave her a look that she could not stand. That _oh-look-at-me-I-know-everything _look. Gripping at the sheets, she gave a surrendering sigh. "But! I can't be sick! Who will cook and sew and wash clothes and make sure that Toph takes a bath and Sokka doesn't hog all the food and who will make sure that Teo and The Duke don't break open their heads in that dangerous staircase they like to race on and…and…"

Softly, she looked up with a broken face, a solemn crack in her eyes.

"…you all need me. Right?"

Zuko frowned, just slightly, if it was pity or an actual human emotion he possessed, she wasn't sure.

"Don't worry Katara. Everyone will be fine."

Standing to his feet, Zuko began to walk toward the door, pausing only once to look over his shoulder. She looked so small in the large bed. Not like a mother, not like a waterbender, not like the warrior she was. Like a little girl, tired and sick of the world and everyone in it, so small, so helpless, so vulnerable. Once you ripped away the many layers of Katara, Zuko knew this was who she was.

"Think of it as a vacation."

Turning on her side, with her back to the door and the boy, she scoffed.

"_Some_ vacation."

Zuko grinned, opening the door to leave her in peace (for once).

"You sound pathetic," He smiled, "Pa-the-tic."

_("Stop laughing at me!")_

**.x.**

Five times Zuko caught the girl trying to sneak off and do chores.

In a day.

Most of the time, they were for things like cooking and sewing and silly things that she always had to do _herself._Every single time he found her out of her bed he would grab her wrist and drag her back. Why him? Because it seemed nobody else found it necessary to do so. They also _liked_ it when she snuck out to do these things for them. It was a simple fact imprinted into their daily lives. A mother and her children.

_(And he was the father of these people, now. A duty he chose to take since the moment he started to care with all his heart.)_

"Katara, you have to stop doing this. Please. You're only going to get worse." Almost begging, pleading, he tugged at her wrist, leading her away to her room. "But the soup! The soup, Zuko! Do you want everyone to starve? Think of all the starving children around the world!" An aggravated snort. "Yeah, I can think of a few, right here, at this very moment." ("Shut it Sokka! You're not helping!")

In the end, he would always win, and she would reluctantly let him haul her off, her mind not ready to admit her body was screaming for the rest.

**.x.**

"Your fevers worse. Nice job Katara, only crazy people stay in the rain like you did."

"Why do you care so much?"

"I don't know," A pause, "…you've done a lot for me. It's only fair."

"But you could easily just get one of the others to do all this for you."

"I know."

"So, why not?"

"Just 'cause."

_I care._

**.x.**

Despite being in bed all day, Katara could hardly call her schedule boring.

Never once did she see the Avatar. No, she saw a boy who was brighter than the sun itself. He was her sunshine. Her lovely child lighter than air. In the morning, Aang would visit her. He would know exactly what to say, always with a story to tell her. All he had to do was smile, and everything would be okay.

_"So one time I visited the North Pole, before the war began—and you're going to love this—I brought __Kuzon__ with me and this was the first time he ever saw a penguin! He freaked! It was hilarious, oh __Katara__, I wish you had been there…"_

Oh how he wished so.

Around noon, when Sokka was finally awake, he would come. Dragging himself and scratching his head like a pig she thought he was. "Hey sis," he'd grin, "You look terrible." And she'd stick her stuffed nose in the air, replying with an ever so hidden smile, "As do you, brother." Then they would crack up laughing, which would only end in Katara having a coughing fit.

And Sokka laughing harder.

He made it a quest, a mission, that he would tell a joke to her everyday.

But none of the jokes could make her laugh as much when he would lay on the bed next to her, telling her the stories of when they were younger that she couldn't remember.

_"And then you threw up after watching the men hunt the whale. You made such a big scandal. Right after that you were convinced that you were going to get hunted while you slept. Like the whale. You were such a dork."_

Somewhere in the afternoon, even Toph made an appearance. With the earthbender came news, detail by detail. Once she was able to squeeze the confession that Toph indeed did _like _someone. (Katara had a feeling exactly who.) But always trying to avoid such girly topics, Toph would escape it, rushing into the conversation of what kind of mess they were without her. Broken supplies, horrible food, Zuko's bad tea, and a butt load of scraped knees and such.

Then she remembered one important thought.

_"Oh! You missed it."_

_"What?"_

_"__Zuko's__ impersonations.__ And we got some dirt on him while we were at it."_

_"Tell me more!"_

_"__Just some stuff about his ex-girlfriend and his current feelings and some unimportant embarrassing secrets. I'll tell you some more tomorrow. __Maybe."_

Toph didn't need earthbending to tell how much Katara wanted to know at that very moment. She grinned as she left the room.

Then finally, there was Zuko. He would randomly pop in during the day, sometimes to check on her dying fever, and sometimes she didn't even know why. But most of the time he would come in the evening, staying until the early hours of the next morning. He would be asleep in the chair next to her bed, dozing off into a much need slumber, an empty bowl in his hands, snoring lightly.

Secretly, this was Katara's favorite time of the day.

"Katara, you have to eat."

She shook her head stiffly.

"Come on, please. Don't make me shove this down forcefully, because I will."

Horrified, she glared at the firebender, folding her arms sternly. "I'm not hungry." Katara leaned back against the pillow, sitting up in her bed. She watched as Zuko's nostrils flared, a frustrated and impatient hand running through his hair. Forcing a sigh down, he caught his breath, swallowing whatever urge to strangle her down his throat.

"I can understand why you're not hungry," He growled slowly, "This_ is_ leftovers of _your _cooking."

Before he could react, she flicked her wrist and bended the watery soup flying into the air, causing the bowl to soar with it, where it hit her intended target.

On the head.

Knocked from his chair, Zuko let out a yelp as the bowl collided with his head, landing on the ground next to her bed. It wouldn't have been so bad if the soup hadn't landed on him either. The puddle splashed down on him, as he let out another raging cry. _"__Katara__!"_ Carrots and lettuce neatly decorated him. "Insult my cooking, will you?" She replied at her name, peering over the edge of the bed and down at the wet Zuko on his back. He propped himself on his elbows, looking up with a growl, spitting out a piece of some green vegetable while at it.

"WHY, _why _do you feel the need to throw bowls at my head?!"

"Because," she sang, "Your head is just the perfect target. It's big, hollow, and—"

She paused, a faint laugh dying at her lips. Carefully, and slowly, she reached down, he tan fingers slightly hesitating. Zuko somewhat closed his eyes as he felt her hand touch his head, a tiny smile on her lips. Katara picked out a piece of lettuce from his dark hair, her blue eyes locked on his golden ones.

"—and nice."

Zuko stared up at her, his chest pounding as she blinked back. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulder, the wavy curls brushing against his knee.

"That's nice," he gulped.

This was her favorite day of them all (_and his too_).

**.x.**

"What're you still doing in bed?"

Exactly five days after her first day of being sick, Katara looked up her hand (which she had been lamely staring at all day). At the door stood Zuko, his eyebrow arched and his arms crossed. "I'm sick aren't I? You're always telling me stay in bed and behave and blah, blah, blah—"

"That's just the thing, Katara," He scoffed, "You're not sick."

Scrunching up her face, she protested with a frown, "Yes I am!" Katara, the horrible liar of them all, faked a cough. Zuko gave her that darn, _oh-look-at-me-I-know-everything_ look that she loathed so much. "Right. Which explains why your fever is completely gone and that cough sounds pretty phony."

Crossing her own arms, she gave a pout and sank into her bed.

For a moment, his face softened.

Concerned, he walked over to her side, placing the back of his hand on her forehead, briefly on her cheek, and finally back on her forehead. She flushed, her neck and cheeks blushing. "Well, you're a _little _hot."

_Don't say anything stupid __Katara__ don't say anything stupid, __don'tsayanythingstu__—_

"Heh," She gave a nervous laugh, "For a waterbender, right?"

_Stupid!_

His eyes widened, as if he finally came to a realization.

"I know why you're doing this!"

Gripping the sheets, she tugged them up to her chin, sulking deeper in the bed. Blinking her eyes furiously, she gasped as she stared up at the softly smiling Zuko. "_What!?_ You do?" She sat up from bed, her legs swinging over the edge, her bare feet touching the cold floor.

"Yes!" Zuko stepped back a little, "You obviously do not want to go back to serving everyone again, doing chores and stuff, you_ enjoyed _letting people take care of you since it has always been the complete opposite for you since you were young. So you're pretending to be sick so you can take a break from the responsibility you'll get when you're back in your normal routine!"

Not exactly.

But Katara wasn't going to say anything.

"…oh darn you caught me." She replied stiffly.

"Don't worry," He whispered, "You can rest for one more day."

Awkwardly, Katara gave a forced smile back, blushing as she swung her legs back into bed. Zuko turned, a bowl in his hand as he began to walk out. Behind his back, she sighed, shoving her face into a pillow and resisting the urge to scream or punch him.

**.x.**

"I know about your little secret, Sparkypants."

As soon as Zuko shut the door behind him, there was Toph, a mischievous smile he didn't trust on her face. How did she suddenly appear in places like that? With no time to ponder, he gripped the bowl and shook his head. "She's just resting…not much of a secret, she deserves it—"

"Oh, save it for later, King Oblivious. Are you really that blind?"

Staring straight into the eyes of a _blind_ earthbender, Zuko blinked.

"…uhhh, no?"

With an annoyed sigh, Toph stepped forward from the hallway wall she had been leaning against. "I've been listening to what's going on—don't give me that, you both are so _loud_ anyways—and I don't understand how stupid you are. Katara's doesn't want to stay in bed for chores, Zuko!"

"What? Yes—she told me—"

"She _lied_."

Bare feet against the ground, heart racing, a skip of a beat, Toph had felt it all.

"She's doing this because, well, she really is sick!"

Confused, Zuko furrowed his eyebrows, staring at the earthbender who was jabbing his chest now.

"What?"

"Sugarqueen is sick—in love—with you!"

The words of truth spilled, a blush flooding on Zuko's face faster than his mind could comprehend something to say. An excuse, anything. Him and Katara? Blasphemy. How..how could that be possible? Toph continued on, the ends of her lips curling, "That's why she's pretending to be sick, to spend time with you! Sweetness fancies you a lot, Sparky."

Zuko froze.

"So…that's? Ah…er..uhmm…"

Toph felt like smacking the boy. But she didn't, knowing that Katara would do it sooner or later. Taking a step back, she crossed her arms again, feeling Zuko boil up and his heart race too fast for a human heart. She smirked.

"And apparently, you've caught the sickness too."

The bowl dropped from his sweaty hands, crashing to the floor.

From inside the room, an innocent Katara yelled shortly after the bowl broke loudly.

"_I didn't do it this time!"_

Actually, she did.


	40. Here We Are

**a/n: I don't feel good. Explains the lack of creativity. Or skill. Or anything, really. Sorry. And happy late new year. :)**

* * *

"Tomorrow's the day." 

His golden eyes began to set like the raging sun, falling and falling downward, trailing down to the ground and far away from the blue. They landed on the dying fire pit, running a slightly shaking hand through his thick hair. Zuko's voice hardened. Tomorrow was _the_ day.

The people, these children, the_ world_; they've been waiting for this moment.

One hundred years.

And this time, they would not, could not fail.

"I know," Katara nodded, "I was born ready for this."

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was the bitter feelings that he's been bottling up for so long now that caused him to snap so harshly, his lips snarling and eyes flashing. But the sick, sticky feeling in his stomach that he refused to acknowledge urged him on, beckoning him with a side of Zuko that he thought he left behind.

Or maybe it was fear.

Maybe the knee shaking, deep worry and heart wrenching was all driven by a fear he did not want to possess, but all he knew that something was there, and he couldn't stop it.

_"__Born ready?"_ He spat, "Katara, you know with every measly bone in your body that is a lie."

Her liquid blue eyes flinched; her curled and buckled up fists protesting at her side. But she didn't do anything else, nothing but purse her lips and swallow down a scream. "How could you say that?" With a thrust of her finger, Katara jabbed the air toward him, she felt a choke drip at the end of her words. "You know how much we've—including _myself_—have been preparing for this! You know we're ready, you know it! How could you say such a thing?!"

From where he sat, Zuko suddenly found himself pushing himself to his feet, growling back at the cracking waterbender.

"I know—I've seen it—but that's not what you said. You said you were _'born ready'_ for this."

Before she could open her mouth, he pressed on.

"_You_, Katara, are a lowly peasant from the Southern Water Tribe. _You_, were born into a time of war. And I may be some prince from the Fire Nation, but I did study my history. I know it. You know it. The Water Tribe is a place where a man must live, and the woman must serve."

"But—"

"And if it weren't by some lucky chance out of millions you would have never found the Avatar, you would still be living in your pathetic life in poverty, filth, and _fear.__"_

_"How dare you—"_

"You were never born for this, Katara. _Never._ You were born to live in a tribe where the male is stronger, where you would marry some man that you didn't really love and have plenty of children and grow old and happy in your isolated life, far, far away from war and danger. That is exactly who you would be."

And she stops.

Her hand falls to her lap, everything she was going to say dying at the breath of her chapped lips. "You're right," She's finally able to breathe, "But I'll tell you one thing." Although a steady churn settled in her stomach, boiling and coiling up at Zuko and his testy ways of always jumping at every little wrong thing she says, she held herself down. Looking up, with big Southern Water Tribe eyes, she continued.

"I may not have been born ready for tomorrow; I think you should know that I _am_ ready and fully prepared for anything that happens. Because that one little lucky chance out of a million has built me to become who I am today."

Zuko fell back to his seat, a taut line stretched across his face.

The knee shaking, deep worry, heart wrenching feeling came back.

"I know Katara, that's what worries me. Y-You were never meant to be like _this, _but here we are. And you're more ready than me."

Softly, and slowly, like the high moon in the sky, she crept over next to him, wrapping her tan arms around his neck tightly. Into his neck she breathed a _thank you_, inhaling the scent of lingering ash from his pale skin.

"Don't worry about me. Don't ever worry about me."

Zuko nodded, locking his eyes on her as she left his warmth, stepping back into the cold air between them.

_Tomorrow's the day._

If only Zuko had known, if only he had known he would have never let her go, and she'd still be in his arms.

Zuko knew he had been right; she wasn't born ready for something like war. But he also been wrong, she was indeed born _for _this day, the never ending cycle of an ignorant history repeating itself once again. She may be a lowly peasant, and he a prince, but they must also remember their place in this history.

It was her last day that day, as the winds whispered ancient names of two lovers.

_Oma__, come back, come back._

And so the cycles continues, on and on, at the top of a moutain and at the bottom of a bleeding heart.


	41. Rebirth

**a/n: I have no internet. I'm at the library uploading this. D: Not sure when it will be fixed...(spoilers for 3x12-13).**

* * *

"Fire does nothing by destroy—eating away like some evil monster—which explains why Zuko ruins everything." 

Gravity was falling, fast like her sharp words, pouring over their silent heads. But one monk was fighting it. Clenching his hands, Aang just could not, _would _not take this any longer. It was going too far. Katara's list of abusive insults and harsh words against his firebending teacher—his friend—was enough. Today, it would end, and he would make sure of it.

"_S__top it," _the Avatar rose to his feet, his voice low, "Just stop it right now, Katara."

There was a tone in his voice that Katara had never heard before, a blunt and invisible pang striking across her strained heart. As she slowly looked over at him, she scrunched her face to protest, ("_What? I'm not doing anything but the truth—")_ and he was able to wipe away her breath like the airbender he was with just one narrowed glare.

"This has got to stop, I can't take it anymore. Will you just stop treating Zuko like this? You're being ridiculous!"

Katara stood to her feet, an obvious dismay on her icy face at Aang yelling at her like this. Never, _never_ had he ever done such a thing before. He has turned away from her affection, her care, he has impulsively shouted his emotions, but never had they been directly toward her.

It hurt, the look and the words he punched toward her, like a mother battling her child.

"Excuse me? Ridiculous? Aang, you know what a jerk he is, what he has done! You know it! Don't you remember how he endangered our lives and nearly killed you? Don't you remember who he is?!"

Silent, a statue like Zuko sat on the floor, his head bowed as he balled hands into fists. Roughly, he whispered to Aang, his golden eyes flittering from the waterbender then back to the Avatar by his side.

"Aang, forget about it. J-Just drop it," he pleaded, "Please, really, it's fine."

But Aang the Avatar wasn't going to take that. No, his heart loved Katara, but not _this_ Katara. Who was this girl? Surely, not the beautiful and kind girl he fell in love with. And he wasn't going to let this go any farther, not while he was alive. It was tearing them apart, thread by thread, skimming the string that kept them together.

"No!" Aang answered, ignoring Zuko, "She cannot keep treating you like this! You have done nothing wrong!"

Jabbing the air with a direct finger, Katara pursed her lips. "Who? That jerk? I swear he doesn't even deserve to eat the food I make—"

But she couldn't finish because Aang just _snapped._

His fists shook, a tightening breath balling up in his chest, and he could practically feel his veins throbbing and blood pumping. Narrowing his gray eyes, Aang raised his voice (but it was the softest whisper she had ever heard) as he stepped toward this stranger he refused to want to know.

"Jerk? Katara, I'm beginning to wonder who is really acting like a jerk lately."

The words slapped across her face.

Beneath the whip of heavy words, she struggled to stand, her eyes falling to ground from the cutting impact. And she felt so small in the presence of this angry Avatar, her shoulders dropping down. His eyes were locked on her face, never faltering as his chest rose and dipped, the ball tightening and his fists even tighter.

"Aang," she began, "You don't understand—"

But he cut her off again, ripping and tearing at the tension between them as he shook his head. It only took a glance at his arched eyebrows and flaring nostrils and she was terrified of this boy she didn't know.

"No, Katara. I-I don't want to understand. I don't even want to talk to you right now."

He turned to leave without anything else, her eyes quivering at his back. Aang frowned, his feet punching against the stone ground, leaving Katara and Zuko in the room full of emptiness.

It was so, so hard to breathe, the humid hair twisting around their lungs. The night was young, and the illuminated moon shined down on their fragile faces. No blue eyes looked at golden ones, no boy dared to glance at the girl. But Zuko stood to his feet, ever so carefully and cracking, muttering a hoarse whisper under his breath.

"What did you say?" Katara's words were slow and bleeding (and murderous), breaking at the ends and dying at her lips, the back of her hand wiping at something wet in her melting eyes before they would betray her.

He paused, stopping from where he was about to leave, his eyes still on the cold floor.

"It will never be enough, " he answered truthfully, "Nothing I do or say, including the rest of the world, will affect you."

The heart breaking sound of silence followed.

"Do you want to know why?" Katara hissed, her voice spitting bitterness and dripping with an odd feeling of malice. Stepping forward, her blue eyes locked on his amber ones, lips curling and defiant chin sneering, as she continued to spit and utter the very sound of glass breaking. "Do you really want to know why I can't stand to look at you and why I just can't trust you and never will?"

"Yes," Zuko gritted through crushed teeth, "Please tell!"

Pivoting herself toward the firebender that towered over her, she looked up boldly with a growl and rough voice. She felt as if she were sick, sick to the bottom of her stomach and all the way to the bone. Something churned in her stomach violently, flip flopping with her racing heart as she dug her nails into her skin, white knuckles flashing in the dark aura around them.

"Because, Zuko, _your_ people took away the most important thing away from me. You killed my mother, you took away our security and you took away my father into a war, and it is because of _you_ I could not sleep at night because I was so scared that would take away the last hope to ever fix anything—"

"I did not kill your mother!"

She answered with an innocent cry.

_"I know!"_

Katara turned away, her sulking back facing the once enemy. "I know, I know!" Her breath began to speed up, becoming heavier and strenuous, curling her fists by her chest and wrenching the air with vicious twists. "But _somebody_ did, and I just want t-to—"

He held his breath—"You want to have someone to blame."—and did not let go.

Zuko's answer seemed to catch her breath, as she gasped out with confession. "Yes!" Her face strained in pain, as she refused to look at him, the back of her hands desperately wiping at the corner of her eyes. Sniffling, she continued between her gasps of breaths, "D-Did you know I had nightmares about you? I dreamed that you would take away Aang, the only hope to save this forsaken world, and you hurt the only people I had left and…"

Her voice died at her pink lips.

"…and you killed my mother in my dreams."

Zuko said nothing, only staring at the back of her trembling back, six years of bottled emotions flooding from her words.

"You killed her with that horrible fire, and you wore that horrendous bone like mask and that red and black uniform, and _my Spirits_ you look just like the man that murdered her six years ago…"

Something broke in half, her heart spilling against the stone floor, as she began to shudder with sobs, her small and fragile frame shaking violently as she gasped for air through labored breaths. The tears didn't stop. Zuko stepped forward, and out stretched hand reaching for her shoulder.

Katara cried out as his fingers barely brushed against her skin.

She flinched under his touch, a fear as hot as fire burning her skin. Retreating, he removed his hand as the waterbender fell to her knees, hands at her face and bawling harder now. "For so long you were the enemy," she cried, "For so long I was scared of you and I will never forget that."

Looking down, he saw her dirt gridded face, weeping sharp tears that tore against the flesh of her soft mocha skin.

"Katara—"

But she continues on, her words spilling messily over the floor, piling up into one big wet mess into the space between them. Blubbering a cry, she struggled to breathe, to talk, to_ think_uncontrollable tears falling and emotions flooding from her sticky pores.

"A-And then I gave you a chance, the one time I do, the one time I don't let myself be afraid and you_ betray_ me." Everything was mixing up and jumbling up as she spoke, choking on each syllable. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Katara looked up, slow and unsure, the ends of her words frayed.

"Y-You can't know," Zuko knelt down, his knee brushing against hers, his eyes locked on her, "You just have to."

A tear slid down her face, hot and confused.

"You don't have to trust me, but you can trust this promise I'll give you. Forgive me for the past, but never forget, and believe me when I say I will do my part to restore balance. We've both been hurt, and unless we work together, we'll keep on getting hurt. I can't fix the past…but I can help you restore the future. I promise."

Six years.

Exploded inside her.

"Let me in Katara, let me in, "he whispered, "…I don't want to be in your nightmares anymore."

His face looked so soft, so sincere, and she noticed for the first time how gold they were.

She felt empty, terribly empty without a burning reason to hate this innocent boy, and she wasn't quite sure what was happening when she saw his hands moving toward her. "Katara," Zuko breathed, grabbing her hands that were hiding her glass broken face and holding them softly in front of both of them.

It was the first time they touched.

Since the glowing caves.

So softly.

"Fire isn't always so destructive, horrible or so killing."

Carefully he turned his hands, knuckles down and palms facing up, her own tan pair resting on top of his calloused fingers. Her palms, sweating and nervous and so wet, faced toward the night sky and his golden eyes. Before she could do anything, he let go of his breath and then there was _light._ A small fire, burning and dancing appeared, flickering above his hands (and hers). She flinched, but as she wiggled her fingers between the rough skin and warm fire, she felt something so miraculous, so amazing, so beautiful.

_Life._

"….it's also like a little heartbeat."

Katara choked on his words, everything flashing before her eyes, and suddenly the empty spot inside her was filled with something she couldn't comprehend. The fire was breathing, beating, and it sung to her. Tears welded at her eyes, dripping down, where they glimmered like the moon.

"It's alive," he felt her fingers shake, "Like you and I."

And she collapsed.

The fire was quickly put out, and she doubled over, her hands still clinging to his as she began to cry out to this boy. Her tears kept coming, between breaths, between beats, and they all screamed the mantra of her breaking words: _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._

All this time she thought it would take a traitorous boy begging and crying on the ground for her forgiveness for the world to change.

But here she was.

_She_ was the one crying on the ground, her cheeks kissing the filth ridden ground, begging with every hope in her body for this boy to accept her apology. Her throat ached, like knives scratching and stabbing her guilt and regret, bleeding with crystal clear tears.

His thumb stroked her hand, a rhythm radiating from his touch like the little heartbeats of a fire: _it's__ okay, it's okay, it's okay._

Briefly she wondered if the empty spot that had once been filled with a sea of anger that she had pointed toward this boy had been refilled with something new, something nice. Trust. But it killed her, it killed her slowly, that she had kept all this inside and had been blind the entire time to what she had been doing.

It didn't matter though.

This was enough.

To start over.

What has been burned can always grow back, newer and even more alive than before. A cycle of life.

His touch was warm and tender like a fire—life giving.

_Thump, thump, thump._

Goes the hearts.


	42. Hesitations

The crystals crashed.

Somehow the oasis bottle slipped from her pocket where she hid it, and somehow it landed between the two opposites, the sound of crystal crashing against the solid stone floor. She yelped at the surprise, her hand grabbing at the air to catch it, but failing miserably as her blue eyes followed the collision of glass and stone.

Zuko didn't breathe.

In fact, neither of them did.

They both stood there, waterbender and firebender, staring down at the broken container that held so many memories, and so many reminders of the past, all bottled up in that tiny little thing that could fit in the palm of his hand. Bright green flashes of a cave struck them both (_like lightning)_. No one moved, no one breathed, no one could even _think_, in fear of even touching the past they both dreaded so much.

But then, something caught his eye.

"There's…" he held his breath, "…still some of that magic water left."

He was right. Just a few drops, just a tiny sliver leaked through the cracks of the ground below them, flowing through the filth and dirt, seeping from the broken oasis bottle. Zuko looked up, glancing at Katara's fixed face and knitted brows, her hands clenching.

She didn't tell him about the time she hesitated. About the time she held the body of a cold, cold Avatar over the fallen city of Ba Sing Se. There, she had hesitated, hands shaking, and heart beating, she had paused before bending the oasis water to heal the world's hope. And in that single pause she had thought of the face of the enemy—(_the threat, the monster, the se__rene face of a banished prince…)—_her entire body trembling with guilt or regret or maybe even hope as she stared at the little drops she kept at the very bottom for some reason beyond her comprehending.

All she did was sigh.

"I know," she nodded, "I know."

Confused, he shook his head, eyes trailing back down at the remains of his regrets.

_"__Why?"_

"Because," Katara leaned forward, slightly kneeling down to examine it closer, her eyes narrowing and her face hardening as if she was still trying to figure it out herself, "I guess…I guess I though that maybe, just maybe I'd get a chance to use it again."

It's right there—between the breaking notes of her voice—the obvious hope spilt across her words but fighting, always, _always_ fighting.

Her throat swallowed; the muscles of her body tensing. "I don't know," She exhaled a breath that hurt, "I honestly don't know why I saved it." Katara lied the words that echoed with her racing heart, a sudden pain throbbing in her head, running in and out of her mind. It took her entire will, her entire soul to keep her eyes from straying toward his scar, toward his watchful eyes. Because if she did, she wasn't sure how long the wall between them would last. This, this was her greatest fear, as the past tightened its binds around her frayed heart.

Zuko watched as she knelt down to bend it into her hand, the tiny drops of oasis water, her eyes avoiding his gaze. Without a pause, he reached out and grabbed her wrist before her fingers could curl and command the precious water to her will.

"I don't know why either," he lied with her, "But—don't. Just don't bother."

It's her turn to ask, as she squirmed under his tight grip and his golden eyes.

"Why?"

For a moment Zuko stared at his hand wrapped around the small wrist of this waterbending peasant. His pale fingers curled around her dark skin. Were they really that different? The colors of their skin contrasted harshly under the sun, her bright blue eyes studying his transfixed face with hesitation. He adjusted his fingers, his voice quieting and hidden.

"Because Katara,"—it was the first time he said her name—"There are some things that even this oasis water can't fix."

Finally, he let go of her wrist, the opposite shades of color separating. He then promptly stomped a foot on the tiny puddle, burning the water with just a spark of flame, letting the special water and the past melt away into steam and disappearing. His back faced her.

His voice lowered.

"Or deserve to be fixed."

With his hands digging into his pockets, and his regret even deeper, he began to walk away. But Katara stepped forward (_fighting, always, always fighting)_ as she felt that same hesitation from long ago return. "You don't know how much I wish I could tell you that you're right."

Zuko slightly glanced at her, his scar the only thing she could see.

"But I can't, because you're _wrong."_

There's the hesitation, the moment, the pause.

The second before the crash.

She neared him.


	43. Another Tortured Heart

**Title: **Another Tortured Heart  
**Rating: **pg  
**Character/Pairings:** Katara/Zuko, Mai/Zuko  
**Word Count: **878  
**Summary:** _"You don't deserve Zuko." Someone had to say it. Someone had to be the strong one._  
**a/n:** I apologize greatly for my long...leave. I plan to start updating Zutarian's Paradise more often now. Sozin's Comet is over, and there is sooo much room for imagination. So, again, I'm sorry! But, I'm back, I hope.

Also, interpret this oneshot as you want. See if you get it.

**.x.**

If she said anything just yet, it might have swallowed her alive.

So she doesn't-just because she can't. Locked in her throat, the words clumsily knotted and twisted around her heart. Without speaking, she grabbed the other girl by the arm and nodded to the door so they could talk alone. In the empty hallway she controlled her raggedy breath, but she barely believed it. Barely believed herself.

"You don't deserve Zuko."

When she let go of Mai's arm, she didn't have to look to know her fingers were reaching for her sleeves, her eyes narrowing and blood running cold. No, she felt it, knew it, dreamed it. But the raven haired girl stopped short when she saw the waterbender stand still, unflinching. Blue eyes drowned in honesty, intense and true.

"No one does," Katara whispered, "Nobody in the whole world."

As the words found their way out, her confidence grew. They crawled out, and she felt so painfully empty after they left. "You see, there is nobody like Zuko. He used to be nothing. B-But, he's fought for where he is now. And he still is. No, Zuko doesn't give up. He's not a winner. He's a fighter."

Katara breathed-"But you know the biggest thing about him?"-and felt herself slightly smile.

Her body choked on the memories, but she didn't show it. She could only think of her secrets. No one will know about their trip that glinted like a knife, a mission for vengeance, and how Zuko never left her side. He didn't stand in front, not in the back, just right beside her. He _didn't have_ to speak the words she couldn't, he _didn't have_ to touch the man she didn't want to, and he _didn't have_ to care so much.

But he did.

"He has a big heart."

And he can run faster than lightning, she remembers. He let lightning pierce his body, bruise and batter him. He has a scar on his chest because of _her. _He ached for her, she knows. Katara wanted to tell her this, wanted to show the world, but that's something that will never happen.

"Zuko cares. He really, and truly, cares. Probably more than he should. When he cares about someone, he will fight and bleed and do whatever it takes without a second thought. I don't think he ever thinks things through, but that's because his heart does everything first."

"I know."

Snapping her head up, Katara narrowed her eyes and curled her fist. Stepping forward, she jabbed her breaths and words.

"_No_, you don't. You really don't."

Her words bruised Mai. Beat her.

"Like I said, you don't deserve him. Maybe you're worthy enough to be with him, but I don't think you're worthy enough to say you really love him. If you loved him, you would never leave him. If you loved him, you would try and try and try to understand him, even if you never will. If you loved him, you'd know."

Like a bloody slap to the face.

"You'd know that someone like Zuko doesn't deserve to be hurt. Ever. You can hurt other people, for Spirit's sake, I don't care if you hurt _me,_ but you don't to him."

Battered and broke.

"Mai, I'm telling you, if you love him, don't hurt him. Love him like someone you could never be with. Love him, talk to him, believe in him. He doesn't deserve less. So if you want to be with him...you better _want _it. I'm telling you...I'm telling you because Zuko needs this. But you need to know too."

She paused, stepping closer, as if to clean the blood from her fists.

"Walk in that room and fall in love with _that_ man, not the one you _think_ he is, and I'll promise you'll never stop."

Mai nodded, eyes blinking behind a curtain of black bangs. Slowly, Katara laid a hand on her shoulder, smiling for her own sake

"He's in there, the door to the left. I think he may need some help with his bandages and robes. I...I think he needs you."

The knife girl gave a nod, a silent thanks, still thinking, still absorbing.

"Go," she ordered Mai hoarsely, her lips smiling, but hands shaking violently.

**.x.**

Don't cry, Katara. Don't cry.

But she does, even if the war is over and his coronation will be soon. With her back against the wall and her knees curled to her chest, the red and gold of the palace blurred. She hates it, hates her heart that is all tied up and hurting, hates herself for not being strong enough to break through it, and hates how this isn't fair. Everything she said was true, and that hurt the most.

This was for him. He gave her something priceless--his life--and she simply needed to repay him. So she had to give him the best. This is the only thing she had to give. (She wished she had more. But there was another boy who took most of it.) Someone had to say it.

Someone had to be the strong one.

Her heart _needed _to know that he'll be okay.

_(Zuko deserved to be happy, he really does.)_

Even if she won't be.__


	44. Not Strong Enough

**Title:** Not Strong Enough  
**Rating: PG  
Word Count:** 1,073  
**Time:** takes place directly after the Southern Raiders, but before Ember Island Players.  
**Summary:** In all honesty, she knew, she wouldn't have been strong enough unless he had been there.

If she says anything, the words might fall into the ocean below them.

So she doesn't. From behind the reigns on Appa's head, her eyes are heavy and her mind is gone, somewhere else. With a beaten heart, abused from all the emotions and all the confusion, she tightens her grip until her knuckles are white and she knows it's still there. Something stirs from behind—and at that moment, she wants to _hate _him. He brings the memory back. His presence makes her remember the man is still alive and her mother is not until she can feel it. It's in her stomach, in her hair, between her fingers, behind her head, everywhere.

He takes his time.

"I almost did it," he is quiet and sitting next to her now, "I almost killed him myself—for you."

Katara doesn't say anything, barely acknowledging him. Slowly, he reached for the reigns, just so she can rest. She needs it. Instead, he feels familiar fingers wrapping and lacing around his arm, nails and bottled up anger digging into his forearm.

Zuko didn't move, didn't say anything. He let her hold on tight, her small frame exhausted and completely miserable. It was like she was falling, desperate and lost, her body flung into the air until her bones cracked and her screams were swallowed down. So he let her hold on, one hand on the reigns, the other clung to his arm, tight and locked.

She needs this.

(She is strong, she is breaking—he is there.)

**.x.**

Spirits, she was sick of hating.

Yet, it still came and came. That night, on her bed, she hated again. She hated the sleep that didn't come, the dreams that never happened, she hated a man and not a boy, herself—she hated it all. Kicking her sleeping bag, she clumsily punched her pillow, curls of hair messily spilling around.

They had returned from their mission. She forgave him. She had _hugged_ him!

For that, he shouldn't be in her thoughts. Not tonight. Not anymore. This shouldn't be yet another tally, another mark for the long list of countless, sleepless nights where he would invade her mind and not leave. He had a habit of doing that. Tucking her legs up, she shut her eyes and tried to forget.

But, she still wondered, would he be waiting outside her tent all night long again and tonight?

**.x. **

In between the sudden shock that there was a body flying at her—_Zuko, of all people—_and rocks crumbling from the ceiling, the first thing she had noticed was she hadn't felt the ground once. What she _had_ felt was a warm body underneath her, the shock of the collision softened by locked hands around her waist.

A sane person might have screamed, might have noticed that rocks were flying and a battle was outside the temple, or even a somewhat sane person might have not noticed anything at all.

And of course, as she lay in bed and remembered this, Katara knew she was not this sane person.

No, Katara clearly remembered one detail as they rolled and tumbled away from her death—his breath. She could remember how his face had buried itself in the nook of her neck and her hair, his breath hot and rushed, tingling down her skin. He took each and every blow of the fall.

His cheek had grazed hers.

Then he was on top of her, bodies and skin and clothes mashed together, and _oh how the spirits hated her,_ his leg was in between hers, his hand warm and uncomfortable under her chest. She's never been this close to someone—not in this position that is.

Katara brought the pillow to her face and tried to muffle the memory out.

**.x. **

Katara hadn't slept properly for the last three nights, and she blames Zuko.

Sitting up in frustration, she rubbed her eyes and sighed to the night that didn't pass fast enough. With one hand, nimble and delicate, she ran her empty fingers into the deep lines carved in her mother's necklace. Looking left, looking right, she can see discarded pieces to her black outfit she wore earlier.

They had used Toph's gambling money to buy the outfits.

With Zuko, she had so many secrets. Like sweet little candies, bitter and tart, they could fill her pocket. She imagines herself one day, old and knowing, able to take out one of those candies to share with some curious (or foolish) soul. Just slip her hand into her pocket, neatly reaching in and picking out the little candy. She would take it, roll it into the palm of their hand, whispering and letting go.

But, with Zuko, she knew this wouldn't happen.

Who was she tell the others about her mission with Zuko? She would just have to clumsily hold it all down. About how he had stayed up all night for her, how he always stood next to her, picked her up by the waist to help her into the air vents so they could find their information, looked a murderer in the eye just for her, _cared_, and how he didn't give up (even if she was ready to).

In all honesty, she knew, she wouldn't have been strong enough unless he had been there.

The thought terrifies her and she just can't explain it.

**.x.**

"Zuko?"

This time, when she steps out of her tent, the only difference than before is that it's the middle of the night. He's there, sitting on a rock, head tucked and shoulders sagging. "Y-You still look awful," she concluded, this time her lips tugging up in pity and an awkward smile, "What are you doing?"

"Couldn't sleep," he answered, rubbing his eyes, "What about you?" Something moved her feet, and she found herself sitting down next to him. "Me either."

Softly, he turned his head, asking with the tremble of his eyes and the fall of his smile.

_Because of..?_

"No," Katara locked her fingers around her knees, "Because of…_you." _The waterbender paused. "Why did you do it? Why did do all that for me, even after how I treated you?"

His answer was a hand to her back, so warm and safe.

"Why did you offer to heal my scar?"

She leaned into his hand, and he held her up.

(This is why she forgave, she remembers.)


	45. You're My Friend

**Title: **You're My Friend  
**Pairing:** Katara/Zuko, Mai/Zuko, Katara/Aang  
**Word Count: + **3,800  
**Extras:** Post-War. Angst. Romance.  
**Summary:**_ Will you understand that when we leave this room that I will always still love you?  
_

**a/n:** This was going to be a happy. But then this monstrous thing was born. Does it make sense? I don't know. It did in my head. Your thoughts?

**.x.**

"I'm surprised you guys haven't killed me yet,"

Zuko could hear the laugh in his voice, but he didn't quite feel it. The skies were cracking open, as he laid on his back, his hands resting on his chest. Vulnerable, exposed, under the sky, he could practically feel his past push down on his ribs heavily. All the mistakes, all the failures.

"Because that's what friends do, stupid."

Her laugh helps. Her blue eyes are sparkling and her smile is bright. Katara sat next to him, pushing the fire with a stick. Zuko glanced at her, slightly spreading a bemused smile. "Do you know what friends are? Have you ever had any, Zuko?" She teased him, lowering her voice into a whisper so she didn't wake up the others.

"Yes!" He frowned at her giggling, focusing his eyes at the sky.

"Just not like you guys," His voice is honest, pure, and young. "I'm new to this."

Katara rolled to her side, locking her eyes with him, her face straight and relaxed. She nodded. "We all are, believe it or not." Her eyes went up, and his followed. "Once you start to listen to your heart, and you just…_forget _about your head and what they say about logic, you eventually end up doing the right thing."

Zuko looked back down, studying the serious face of the waterbender. She looked back at him, smiling down her nervous laughter. "I think that's how we all eventually ended up here. Here in this dysfunctional family. Doing the right thing. Even you."

"You talk a lot."

She glared, laughed and smiled, and finally turned around to fall asleep and completely forgot about what she said, even if he didn't (and never would).

**.x.**

They were still bruised and still tired when they met Mai.

"Oh," Katara forcefully tugged at her lips, "You never told us that she was your girlfriend."

Perhaps it was because the war had just ended, a single day ago, and Zuko had just been crowned Fire Lord, that this information seemed more important than it should be. From the corner of her eye, she could see Zuko glance at Sokka, then Mai, then back to her.

She didn't listen to what he had to say, she just inched closer to Aang, and smiled at Mai.

**.x.**

It's been two years.

There's hesitation on her face, hidden swiftly by her upside down and twisted around smile. The entire room is beautiful, gold and red and rebuilt, and beating with music that vibrates to her toes, so incredibly majestic and heart pumping. But Katara was holding her breath, hoping and praying to hide behind the blur of their dance, the Avatar's hands on her hips and between her fingers.

But he's smiling so big, grinning and sweating—just like when they were younger, when he was Kuzon and she was Sapphire and completely oblivious. She can't let him down, not while he laughs and spins her around, and she has his heart all wrapped up in knots.

"May I cut in?"

It's Zuko.

Quick and careful, he does. Zuko smiled at Aang, who graciously (but eventually) gave in. Blue eyes looking up, she let out a breath, saying everything with her eyes._ "_Stop it," he says into her ear, "You know how much he loves you." Her lip flinched. The steps to their dance became off beat, her shoulders stiffening and her eyes narrowing. "As your friend, Katara, I can _see_ it. I know how you really feel about him, and you need to stop lying to Aang, and to yourself—"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she snapped, "But I do think your girlfriend is looking for you."

When she lets go, she gives him a reassuring smile, but keeps on walking, just walking over a neat line to the drinks (never over the boundary line, never out of her place, because she knows it.)

She hates lying.

**.x.**

It was strange, in a way.

Zuko wasn't a man who told his past, who trusted others with secrets, or let his emotions roll to his sleeve. But, with this one person, he could. Not his uncle, not his girlfriend. But a waterbender, of all people. He'd find himself telling her things he wouldn't to anyone else.

She was his best friend.

He didn't realize it until his uncle died, and he cried in her arms, no words to be spoken, no explanation needed, while they hid in the kitchen's closet so no one would see the Fire Lord, a grown man, weep.

Mai held him, she did, and he loved her _so much_ for that, but he just couldn't cry in front of her.

They were so different.

**.x.**

"You loved me once, didn't you?"

Papers shuffled against the desk, a fidgeting Fire Lord sitting behind it. Eyes narrowed and focused, he barely remembered there was a blue eyed girl in the room. Licking his lips, Zuko thumbed through a scroll, finally glancing up to see blue fabric in his vision. He had only hardly heard her mumble. "Did you say something?"

"I said," she didn't skip a beat, "You love Mai, don't you?"

This time he paused, his attention focusing on her and away from the papers. "Yes, of course." Slightly confused, he blew a breath from his nose, "What kind of question is that? She's my _fiancé, _Katara."

"Just a question," Katara shrugged, counting this as the third time she's avoided the real question, her hands digging into the pockets of her dress. She walked out, straightening her shoulders and tightening her lips as if _nothing_ had happened.

Between her fingers, the lace of a necklace sits, the memory swinging in her head and the real question still on her lips.

**.x.**

He gave her his heart.

And she took it.

Because she needed it, not because she wanted it. "I loved you forever," Aang tells hers, "Since I first met you, and you don't know how much. I'd give up the world for you." So Katara reaches for it, smiling and finally taking back love she deserved, and knows she_ must_ take it. She can't hurt him, can't break his heart, and all those years she spent protecting him will not be wasted. She loves him too much.

(She's also lonely and tired of waiting.)

**.x.**

"Oh, _get up_, Zuko."

He's not quite sure what she meant by this, as he sat in the grass, his eyes staring into the reflecting pond water. Through the water mirror, and the slow ripples, he could see Katara standing behind him, arms on her hips and a fixed jaw.

"I'm not in the mood."

At first he swore he thought he heard her mumble something like, _"Fine, I'll make you," _but all his thoughts were interrupted when he felt a hand hit his shoulder. And suddenly, she's shoving him down, hard, into the ground, her eyes tight and fists rolled. Stretched out on the ground, his good eye widened when he saw her raise a hand, water and ice reflecting in the sun, his breath stopping, but something else was swarming through his veins and from his stomach.

"Take it out on me," she hissed, "_Do it!" _

The past began to blend with the present, fists of fire and ribbons of sharp ice crashing. This isn't just practice. It's as if he's blindfolded, punching and crushing his knuckles, his attacks blind and raging. One kick like the Oasis (_this is for Uncle), _a battle cry from the pit of his stomach (_this is for the mistakes), _a punch from the caves of Ba Sing Se (_for Azula, for Father), _and one last blow for _everything—_

"Zuko! Stop!"

Splotches of past memories began to fade, his eyes opening back to reality and settling on the real face he saw below him, cowering. He didn't realize it before, but his arm had lost power, the flow of blood controlled by the dark fingers trembling beneath him. "Katara…" He stood over her, his eyes widening again as he realized what he could have done.

Bleeding and sore, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," She let go of his arm, understanding eyes looking up at him, and took it once again when he offered a hand to help her up.

"I wasn't holding back," Katara slipped her hands around him, "Just so you know. You were pushing me hard, but I pushed back, too. I'm strong enough."

"I know, I know."

He needed to release his emotions, and in a way, she needed him to do that, too. There's no need to explain why she did it, no need to really apologize, as she patted him softly, the change from fighting till she _bled_, to soft hands and care, drastic and completely Katara.

"Feel better?"

And it clicks, like a candle and a flame—she really cares.

She honestly, truly, _means it, _and it matters more than it should to him.

**.x.**

"Let's go."

She stepped closer, dragging each step along the beat of her heart. "Let's get out of here. Let's do something. Eat lunch or have some fun. We both just…just need to escape. You've been so stressed lately, you really should relax. Come on, let's go."

"I _am_ doing something, Katara! I have paperwork and a world that's suffocating me. I can't just walk out! I can't even breathe here! I don't have time for this—_who do you think I am?_"

Zuko stood to his feet, his chest heaving with something he knew was frustration, and his eyes wide at her. The space, and the silence, between them was choking. It was against his neck and around his heart.

Katara let go of her breath—so the words and silence surged upon him, the final knot around the rope.

"You're Zuko," she stared at him, through him almost, "The boy who doesn't give up."

He still couldn't breathe as she left the room.

**.x.**

"Who am I, Mai?"

Zuko turned to her, his eyes searching for something deep inside her, his voice quiet.

"You're Zuko—the Fire Lord. My boyfriend."

Nodding, he turned away, thinking.

**.x.**

He came back—like always.

"Is that offer still available?"

Against the door frame, he gave a small smile at the waterbender in his library. Quietly, carefully, he walked over to the table, sitting across from her. "To eat lunch, I assume." Katara smiled back, closing the book she had been glancing at.

"You do realize lunch passed over three hours, right?"

For a moment, he sat there, staring at the table. Her hands and the book. Thinking, thinking, he managed to lift his chin and open his mouth—"I know,"—but couldn't bring himself to speak what he needed to say.

"Zuko—"

The sound of his name was enough to rip open his heart and let it leak.

"You once told me that you should listen to your heart. That you should ignore logic and people and common sense. And that it would lead to doing the right thing. Do you remember that, Katara?"

When she didn't say anything, he found himself begging, his knuckles digging into his face and his fingers reaching for her hands that had moved from the table to her lap, and his voice kept going and shattering. "_Please _tell me you remember, Katara, please, please."

She looked up, lost and confused.

"_Why?"_

Maybe he was just as lost as she was, or maybe scared—just like she was.

"Because I love you," he stood up, walking over as the words rushed out, "And my heart keeps telling me its right. I know it. It's the same feeling I had when you almost healed my scar, when I knew I had to help you with your mother, when you forgave me, and it's the same feeling when I took that lightning for you. No regrets, just some pure _feeling _that I can't describe."

"Shut up, Zuko. Shut up."

He had been too busy smiling and gripping his heart to notice her wet eyes.

"Katara. You told me. You told me that when you listened, it was right."

He ached.

"I can't love you."

"But you do!" Another step closer, he looked down at her, eyes and soul on fire. "And _you told me. _This should be right thing, shouldn't it? So why can't you?"

"Because the heart isn't always right, Zuko! Sometimes you have to do things you don't like. Sometimes, you have to think of other people's hearts before yours."

"Tell me one time. Tell me one time you put yourself first."

Towering over her, he steadied his voice and pushed down the need to break down. Locking eyes, she struggled to think of a time, but when she felt his voice and breath hush against her face, she remembered.

"When I let myself fall in love with you."

And that was already too much.

"Please," she whispered, closing her eyes and felt her heart crush inside her chest, "Please stop hurting me. Don't make this worse. Don't make this harder. You know this, too."

On his toes, he leaned in, wanting and needing, but she turned away. A hand went to his chest, pushing but also holding. "If you love me, will you move on—for me? Will you understand that when we leave this room that I will always still love you? But we have to say goodbye. We have to keep going."

He nodded and pushed away her hand.

"I understand."

His heart still hurt, though.

**.x.**

"I have business to attend to in the South Pole," his smile is serious, sincere, "Would you care to join me? You were going back there anyway, sometime soon at least, right?"

Katara glanced up, giving a nod as a shrug rolled off her shoulders. "Okay."

With careful steps, she placed a hand on his arm, her voice lowering and softening. "Zuko," And he can feel it, all the way in his stomach, between his fingers, in his chest, and in the back of his head, how tired and _honest _her eyes and words are, "Thank you. For understanding. You don't know how much that helps."

She acted like everything was perfectly normal.

He gave a nod, turning away without saying anything.

"Anything for you, Katara."

**.x.**

It was just a few days later, they left off on the ship.

Against the rock of the swallowing sea, deep blue sighs from the ocean rushing, he whispered into her ear. "I'll be right back," Zuko stood from the seat in his finest cabin, looking down at the waterbender 

sitting comfortably with her tea. "I'm going to talk to the Captain for second. Gotta ask him about time and such, make sure everything's alright up there."

Katara smiled. "Hurry up. Oh! I have to tell you this hilarious story when you come back," She muffled a laugh, "About this time when Sokka wore a _dress. _You'll love it." Her knees rolled up to her chest, bare feet digging into the fabric of the seat.

"Well, now I can't miss _that," _He smirked. "I'll be back."

Then he left, shutting the door behind him, leaving her alone in the room.

His footsteps echoed down the long metal hallway. Zuko licked his lips, making sure his footsteps didn't rush, didn't slow down.

**.x.**

The ship bolted into life with a sudden jerk, the metal creaking and groaning as the water punched against the ribs of the giant machine. Her head resting against the chair, she sat up, setting her tea down abruptly. "Where's…"

It hit her.

Zuko wasn't checking with the Captain.

Zuko wasn't _coming back._

Before she could fully comprehend it all, her feet were pumping against the ground, her breath short and cut, as her frantic body began to run out the door and to the deck of the moving ship. "Zuko!" His named ripped through her throat, hesitant at first, against the hope that maybe she was wrong. Panic grew in her chest.

When she turned her head on the cleared deck of the ship, she could see him, already stepped off and walking farther into the harbor. She could see the profile of his stiff face, his eyes _not _looking at her, _refusing, _as if she didn't exist and as if he couldn't hear her desperate, raging cries. ("_Zuko? What are you doing?! Don't you leave me! Zuko!")_

"_You liar!"_

At the edge of the ship, she gripped and screamed, guards holding her back—without a doubt assigned by him—confusion and betrayal all wrapped up in a tight knot around her heart. Her legs kicked, her brain raced. She could part the sea if she wanted to, jump in the water and get to him, freeze the boat in place, or hell, if she wanted to, freeze _him_—but that didn't matter. Because even if she did, it wouldn't make a difference. No matter what she did, he wouldn't be back. Her voice pitched, eyes watering.

What kind of goodbye was this?

"Look at me, coward! _Look at me_!"

But he just kept walking. Just walking, just like that. His eyes focused on one thing. His steps were rough and rigid. Fists clenching, he adjusted his crown and his robes, never looking back, never daring to see the hysterical girl screaming his name, and just stepped into the same carriage that he had arrived in.

"To the palace," he ordered hoarsely, his jaw set firm, but hands shaking.

**.x.**

"I love you," Zuko hushed his voice, nuzzling closer to the woman in the dark, "_So much_."

This, as he gently pulls her closer and captures his lips, is moving on. So he kisses her with rushed hands and a feverish head, his breath raggedy while he desperately tries to get rid of the blue eyed girl and all the wrapped up lies in the back of his head.

"I love you, too." Mai whispers, lips smiling wide.

His heart twists, but at least he knows, he's saving hers.

(He's still living, he's still breathing—he's alive and _maybe_ this is what moving on is.)

**.x.**

"What are you doing here?"

Zuko stood from his desk, papers spilling and falling over, his chair screeching against the marble floor. Walking away, he stepped toward the figure in his doorway. His throat went dry, his body choking up the memory from a year ago.

"Katara—"

The loud _smack_ from her hand across his cheek stung, her calloused fingers colliding with his cheekbone and the low cry from her throat burning. "You left me!" He stumbled from the surprise, and was met again with her hands when she reached for the front of his robes, rage sweating from her brow and bubbling in her chest. "How could you lie to me? _Why?_ You couldn't even look at me!"

"Why?" A breath of air huffed past his lips, and she's not sure if that was a laugh, or a cry of pain, "Because, I did exactly what you told me to. To _move on—"_

"By abandoning me? By lying to me? You could have at least said goodbye!"

His fists rolled as he turned his face away, so the profile of his scar faced her. Zuko felt his voice lower and crack, "I did what I had to do. But—I guess that doesn't matter. You're back now."

She realized it then.

Honest eyes glanced at her, and she could _feel_ it, the reason to why he left her. Goodbyes are too hard. "Why are you back?" It took her a moment to hear him, but when she did, she felt herself take a step back. "I was mad at you for a long time. But…I..needed…I needed to know why you did what you did."

"No—I mean why are you back, why do you still want me around, after you said we had to stop…feeling this way?"

And then they were back, back to the days when she was just plain Katara, he was just old Zuko, and things weren't so hard. Her hands reached out to his face, holding his face as her blue eyes sparkled, "Because before I fell in love with you Zuko, before we had to worry about this, you were my _friend."_

His hand slipped over one of hers, swallowing the words and shutting his eyes to remember, to fall back into the old days and old memories he thought he had buried deep down. "I don't want to forget that, I don't want to waste that. I want it back."

Nuzzling closer into her palms, her dark fingers, into her warmth, he felt his words run dry. "We never lost it, peasant, and you should know that I'd never let that happen," he nodded with a small smile, running a hand through her hair, "Because that's what friends do, right?"

Katara looked into his eyes, hands trembling and smile shaking, and finally figured out why she fell in love with him in the first place (and how much this truly is going to hurt).

"Maybe we should start over," Tears streamed down her face, her nose sniffling and throat aching.

Stepping back, Zuko cleared his throat, and bowed awkwardly.

"I'm Zuko."

_The boy who doesn't give up._

The words reminded her of the black snow falling over a village—crisp and lovely flakes that burn the tongue.

"I—I'm Katara."

By this time, she's muffling her cries with her hand, hot breaths silently screaming. Swallowing it all down, the reality, the sobs, the words, she continued backing up, and so did he, giving a weak wave with shaky hands.

"Goodbye."

They turned around, walking their own way. Forgiving, forgetting. Moving on. You couldn't get everything you wanted, right? There were responsibilities, there were promises, and they were all so _hard._ But she'd live, and he would too, and life would continue to move and weave, and they'd still be friends, still able to love each other.

Katara felt her hand touch the smooth pendant around her neck, the back of her hand wiping away at the wet drops. "Wait," She breathed, "Zuko!" Syllables strained, but she didn't even have to blink or finish before the Fire Lord's body twisted around and began to race toward her, his blood pumping and his feet rushed.

"Zuko!" She called out again, spinning and clumsily running toward him.

Lips mashed together, colliding with force and longing, and with something they've both been dreaming of. It's their first and last kiss, hands running through hair and hearts thumping with feverish pants. It's for love, it's for friendship—it's for the end to their start so they can_ finally_ move on.

The word is bitter and sweet—"_Goodbye," –_but it's also for real now. And it hurts, and maybe they're growing up, but they're also _breathing, _so that must mean it's going to be okay. They can't control their hearts, but they can control _this._ So they mutter their goodbyes, holding their heads high and strong, broken but healing, and walk out.

Because goodbyes don't have to mean forever.

It's enough.


	46. Salvation Is Near

**Title: **Salvation Is Near  
**Word Count:** 165  
**Extra(s):** drabble.takes place during the finale.  
**Summary:** She will breathe, he will make sure of it.

--

You can breathe, he wants to tell her.

He aches to say it to her, aches to show her that she can sit and laugh, and for once not care. Zuko would like to tell her that she has become so strong and beautiful. But the chances slip and fall between his fingers every time he hesitates--messily down the cracks of his clenched hands. She can break, he wants to scream, she _can_ love him.

He doesn't. He can't.

But he tries. Even though he stays quit and hardened, she is on his mind. He tries to tell her when he touches her, fingers softly bruising and burning, his eyes so very bright. He whispers it silently when he sits next to her, when he says her name, and when he holds her tight. And he screams it when the lightning flashes and his heart stops for her.

She needs to breathe, he tells himself as he runs for the lightning, she needs to _live._


	47. For Mother part 1

**Title:** For Mother  
**Part: **1/?  
**Word Count: **1,140  
**Author's Notes:** You know what? This thing has been sitting on my desktop since _February. _That was when the Western Air Temple was leaked. I never finished this plot bunny. But I think I'm going to finish it, but I'm going to have to change it up some. So...for now, take this first part and I'll continue it soon.  
**Extra Notes: **Takes place during the Western Air Temple period!  
**Summary:** This is going to be hard, she knew. They both knew. Slow and painful.

---

"How did it go?"

Katara snapped her head over at her brother's direction, a ribbon of water lacing around her fingers. He sat there, one dark hand running through his hair. "How did what go?" She asked him, taking a step forward toward Sokka.

"Do…do you remember that lullaby mom used to sing to us?"

The water turned colder, her eyes froze, blue orbs hazing over with a thick memory. A flash of blue, a striking blue that cannot be found anywhere else but her home (and her eyes, always her eyes), along with the sudden and never forgotten voice of her mother, flooded inside her. For a moment, she stood there, blinking, and trying to forget.  
_  
Sleep little blue moon,  
high in the white sky,  
down in the sea,_

_Sleep little blue moon,  
let these stars shine,  
come sleep with me,_

_So peacefully,  
little blue moon._

But the song was interrupted by a flash of red this time, bright as fire (and just like his eyes, the ones watching them right now), and the lullaby was pushed and burned away by the memory that took her mother away.

"N-No…I don't remember. Sorry, Sokka."

Katara lied, turning her head away, the song vaguely on the brim of her lips.

**.x.**

There's a boy. He's running. Feet slap against the endless halls and corridors of the ghastly familiar palace, his shoulder blades slicing fiercely behind him through the thick, dense air. Rhythmic gasps tear and fumble around the corners, frantic to escape. There are no windows in this place, no light, nothing but the never ending labyrinth following him all the way into the marrow of his bones.

But every single time, whenever his wide eyes look back, he sees the fire that _he_ started.

The door is always partially open, the golden trims melting into the nothingness that matched the house, the creak of the entrance slowly and terrifyingly creeping against the knobs of his spine. Then the flames would devour the room, swallowing it down until the eyes of a beast glowed everywhere he looked.

No matter where he went, no matter how far he ran, or how hard he tried—whenever he looked back, _it was always the same._

Suddenly he stopped, fearfully and slowly looking down at his hands.

His bloodied, red hands.

His mother's scream still sat in the cracks of his palms, flooding through the spaces between his fingers, sticky with murder and guilt. She had been in there. The now devoured room that sat among the ashes. She never heard his cries—(_"I'm sorry mom, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!")—_and he never felt his voice make it past his whimpering lips.

When Zuko looked, he saw who the boy was.

Him.

"_Zuko!"_

Then he's back, fighting against the friction of his sheets and the sweat pouring down his face. He desperately tried to find the voice that he had somehow swallowed during the night. With one choking gasp, he sprung forward into a sitting position, his knuckles gripping the bed and his head drowsily following behind his heaving chest. The blankets were tangled around his legs, sticky with an odd ugliness and an uncomforting humility.

"I'm sorry!" He yelped, shouting to a room.

His bare chest rose up and down, a rush of blood bubbling in his head.

"It's okay, Prince Charming! We forgive you for waking us up in the middle of the night," a familiar earthbender chimed, "Even if I was having a good sleep." Still panting, Zuko craned his head toward the crowd of watchful eyes at the entrance of his door. His mouth still slightly ajar, he stared. And they stared right back.

"You were having a nightmare."

His eyes landed on the source of the soft whisper. The waterbender hugged herself, her words long and stretched, as if the obvious statement had to be said with carefully chosen words. Her brother broke the stiff pause with a grunt. "Yeah, you scared us pretty bad. We thought Azula had come to suck your brain out or something." The Water Tribe warrior scratched his stomach and wiped away the hair in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Asked a concerned Avatar, the only one to step clearly into the room.

"Yeah—just fine. It was just a dream." Somehow his gaze on Katara never faltered, the wrinkle of his brow tightening as he felt a bead of sweat run down his scar. "Thanks," he added, nodding to reassure the groggy, but worried others. When none of them moved, he waved a dismissive hand at them, shaking the uncertainty off his voice. "Really! I am! Go back to bed, I'll be fine. Honest."

"A'right, Sparky Pants. Whatever you say." Toph gave a shrug, not able to tell if he was lying since he was on the bed. Her normal instinct would try to coax—or rather, force—the answer out of him. But it was the middle of the night, almost morning, which obviously meant it was way past her bedtime. Besides, in the morning, she'd be able to get her chance. Why waste energy now? "I'm not going to argue with you." Sokka let out a yawn, stretching his arms over his head as the two began to head out back to their rooms. The soft whispers and conversation of either Haru or Teo asking them what was wrong, and then their reassuring answers, could be heard.

"Night, Zuko."

"Good night, Aang."

Then there was only one left.

She stood there, her shoulder leaning against the frame of the door, her similar posture exactly the same as just a few weeks ago. The only difference was this time there was no threat, no glares, no let downs. This time, all she did was sigh.

"I dreamed of my mom," He didn't know why he was telling her this, but it came out anyway, locking his eyes on her. It reminded him of the time in the caves. "I keep dreaming that she's…" He struggled to find the least painful word, his hand shaking beneath the covers of his bed. "_Gone. _And it's always my fault. I was the reason why she left. And there's nothing I can do about it."

Katara's hair fell over her shoulders, and through the dark he could see the shadow of her face.

"That's another thing we have in common," she whispered. Zuko could see the way her face fell, and hear the sound of her feet retreating backwards, her hand reaching for the door. She vanished somewhere, but his heavy eyes were too tired to figure out where or when, blood still pumping in his head, in his dreams. When he looked, there was a window to his left, but still no light.

Before he closed his eyes, he checked his hands one more time.


	48. For Mother part 2

**Title: **For Mother  
**Chapter:** 2/?  
**Word Count:** 1,300  
**Summary: **The past is hard to swallow. It's hard to move on. At least for Katara.

---

"Did you get any sleep last night, Sparky?"

Rubbing his hands in his face, Zuko knelt beside the earthbender. With a shake of his head, and a groan creaking from his throat, he cracked his back and could feel the beginning of a stubble beneath his digits. He thought back to the night he spent tossing and turning, sweating the rest of his dreams out. "I'll take that as a no," Toph shrugged and passed him a plate of breakfast, her raven bangs tickling her sun burned nose.

From the other side of Zuko, Sokka plopped down next to him, his fingers still greasy from his second serving of food. "You know," he began as he eyed the firebender, "You got us all worried again when you weren't the first one up. 'Cause, you _are _a fire person after all. Rise with the sun and what not."

With a sluggish push of his wrist, Zuko managed to shove a mouthful of eggs. The salty taste of Katara's cooking flooded his senses, clogging up the headache that throbbed in his temples. He chewed without a complaint; by now he had gotten used to it. But even so, he had to take a drink of water with every so often bite.

"What time is it?" The yellow of an egg dribbled down his cheek.

"Almost noon."

Zuko almost choked, his eyes widening, and then the sound of Toph's rough fist thumped against his already hurting back.

"Gross, Zuko! Chew with your mouth closed for Spirit's sake. Geez." Sokka wrinkled his nose at the sprayed food on the floor, the one that Zuko has accidentally spat in his surprise. With a mumble, the warrior tightened his lips at the sight of perfectly good food gone to waste.

The firebender pounded his hand against his chest, his voicing pitching as he repeated the time. "_Noon!?" _

"Duh, Jerkbender. Are you deaf _and_ table mannerly challenged?" But Sokka just smiled, giving Zuko a reassuring nod. His face softened. "Like I was going to say before, you must have been really tired. It's not like you."

Before Zuko had a chance to do anything, the rest of the '_family'_ joined. "Hey, Sparky! What happened last night?" He mentally grimaced. Thanks to Toph, she wasn't the only one using nicknames for him. Spinning his head around, he caught Teo in his wheelchair rolling over closer. Beside him, Haru nodded, adding, "You woke everybody up!" Rubbing his hand across his forehead one more time, he blinked over at them and gave a sigh with a quick breath of, "Sorry," just for them to hear.

"Yeah, bad dream. That's all. Sorry it woke all you up."

And then, in a soft voice, pure and innocent, the one question he didn't want to answer, popped up.

"What was your dream about?"

Zuko snapped his head to the source of the question, his amber eyes landing on a small body. The Duke looked curiously at him, blinking chocolate eyes through his long bangs. And of course, Katara sat next to the boy, trying to sew a patch on his shirt and keep him from moving so much. The others squirmed, a vague cough echoing through the awkward silence as Zuko hesitated. It was obviously Toph. But he didn't care at that moment. His eyes were on Katara, yet once again. She knew. She knew exactly what his dream was about. He could see the way her eyes fluttered knowingly at him, like a disappointed mother would look at her child who needs to tell the truth. Sewing one last stitch into the sleeve of The Duke's shirt, he could see her impatient eyes saying to him: _Well? What are you going to do?_

Briefly, he wondered if he ignored the boy long enough, they'd all forget about it.

For another brief moment, he thought about making an excuse to the bathroom.

But then, Katara idly looked at her needle and as if she were making a bored comment said, "Oh you know bad dreams. They can get pretty bad to talk about. Or sometimes you don't even remember them." He didn't like the look she sent him from the corner of her eye, her eyebrow slightly raising. She was trying to cover for him! Well, if the grunt coming from Toph's throat wasn't enough to make him awkward, he tightened his lips and sat a bit straighter. If he was going to be part of the group, he promised he wasn't going to lie anymore.

"Actually, I _do_ remember."

The line on her face fell, her hands falling to her lap.

"I dreamt about my mother. I dreamed I was the reason she left." His fingers fumbled together, clasping and lacing together on his knees. "I was close with my mother. I loved her. She…she had to leave when I was eight. My own father was going to kill me, but instead she…she did some things that night in exchange for my life. For that, my mother was banished for treason. I haven't seen her since."

Zuko's knuckles went to his face, digging into his skin as he breathed carefully and painfully. He couldn't remember when he ever told someone of his mother. Except for the one blue clad girl staring down at her hands.

"You must miss her."

These were the first words Aang said to Zuko that morning.

"Yeah," Zuko placed the bowl down on the ground, careful not to look at the waterbender, trailing his eyes back to the Avatar. "I do. I'd give anything in the world to see her one more time." Nobody said anything else afterward, not until Teo rolled up with a soft smile and asked what everyone thought of the new glider he built.

**.x.**

"You should go and find her."

"_What?"_

Katara cleared something bitter from the back of her throat, as she scrubbed the dirty plate furiously one more time. "I said, you should go and try to find your mother. If you like, you know, really miss her." Her eyes stayed away from the firebender whose own eyes were fixated on her face, perplex with confusion and struggle. Zuko picked up the rest of the dishes, as it was his chore to help her with evening duties.

"You think so?"

Exasperated, her arms were thrown down as her head whipped up at him. "Look!" Her eyes narrowed, one hand flying to her hip that jutted out, snapping her reply with an annoyed sigh. "It was a suggestion. I'm not your mother and you certainly don't need my permission!" Ducking her head back down, she continued to clean the plate, even if it was already clean. Perhaps the feeling, the bitter and ugly feeling in the pit of her stomach, was the cause of this.

"Just…just do what you think is right," She mumbled at the absence of his response.

Absorbing the words, Zuko stood a bit straighter, setting the plates from his hands a little harder than gentle on the makeshift table they had.

"Oh no, Katara, I could never mistake you for my mother." His lips snarled, nearing her with one hasty step, "I know you too well, better than you think, waterbender. You're controlling, set out to be everyone's mother, bossy, nosy, resentful, judgmental—"

"So you think you can over simplify me in five words, is that what you think? Well, let me tell you something, it's not possible—it's not right—to reduce a human being into a handful of meaningless words! You don't know me like you think you do!"

Pivoting on his foot, he shook his head at her, lowering his voice to a growl.

"Just like you probably used to think of me, right?"

_Enemy. Obsessed. Angry. Hateful. Monster…_

He left, leaving the right words to soak in, next to the dishes.


	49. Hands

**Hands - ohsoxalive  
* This is me, trying to get back into my writing groove. For Zutara. It's been a while since I've written anything. It feels good. I feel rusty. I miss it, I miss Avatar, I miss Zutara.  
* Firstly, this piece was _entirely _based off the beautiful, beautiful artwork _Embrace _by Alamus on deviantart. The idea is credited to her. It inspired me, though. I fell madly in love with that image.**

* * *

When it's time to say goodbye, he falls.

They were turning away from the sickening screams of a broken princess, step by step away from the hellish heat and the shakiness of this blood red palace. Katara's arm was still on Zuko's back, carefully unsure, each movement from the prince slow and echoed with raspy breaths. The sound of a long, scraping screech that clawed from Azula's throat to the dirty palace ground was the song to which Zuko collapsed.

To his knees, to his old home's floor.

The pain that ached from his chest was too heavy to even walk. Despite Katara's healing, it was still there, still fresh and open. It was awake and it was screaming with Azula and it made him give out a cry to match as he tumbled to his side. Right behind him, Katara was reaching out, a quick "_Zuko!" _that he didn't even hear slipping past him. He clutched his chest . Closed his eyes. Katara's knees hit the ground beside him, her hands flying to his chest in a horrible mess of hurt and shaky breaths.

Quickly as she can with trembling hands she bends water from her pouch to his star shaped scar. The sudden relief flowed from her fingers, something she knows is still not enough by the way his heart is rushing and terrified. It's not enough, not even her healing, so she scoops one arm behind him, bringing his scarred face closer to her chest, her chin resting on his ash smelling hair.

She whispers apologies that get lost in the melody of angry screams and burning fires and tears and his gasps of pain.

On his side, resting, depending on the delicate frame of this waterbender, he felt a teardrop that ran from her blue eyes, down her cheek, to his own face, right on to his own unstained cheek. He could feel the ache in his chest rest for a moment finally, nothing but a soothing oasis instead of lightning shattered scar. With his head resting on her chest, his burnt eye skimmed her bare skin, kissing cool relief.

He could feel her hear heartbeat—he's never heard someone's heartbeat before, never known that it could beat so wildly for someone like him.

Katara kept him close, cradling him with a feeling that hurt _too _much for this ex-prince, healing, healing, _healing _him as much as possible until her head hurts from crying and her arm is sore from holding him up to her chest. But she doesn't mind. She keeps hugging him with one arm, healing with the other.

She keeps crying when she puts the water away and feels him shake and cringe against her chest. She was still crying when she helps him to his feet, a hand around him to help him walk to the bison waiting for them to return to a new world they both created.

She can't fix him, she can't heal him completely or take away all the pain. She can still remember how much she hated him. She still can see the way he looked when he first began to truly care. She can still hear his voice when he first understood her. She can still feel the ache when he took the lightning and she almost lost him. This feeling isn't right; it scares her, confuses her, consumes her. She's compelled. Katara looks him in the eye and doesn't forget anything. He gives her a painful smile.

She cries one last time when she lies Zuko down in the saddle and he grabs her hand and doesn't let go.


	50. For Mother part 3

**For Mother 3/? - ohsoxalive**

It's the sound of heart wrenching twists and turns that wakes Katara—and it was coming from her chest, raw and throbbing in her ears.

But it was the feeling of ripping open her chest, to sink her nails in and tear, tear, tear the flesh apart because it wouldn't go away, that made her sit up and scream into her pillow. Kicking the sheets franticly, her face was flushed with warm tears against the sticky friction of resentment and cotton. This isn't a new feeling, no, it's more of a ritual, a dark and angry tradition that she is so sick of. She doesn't cry because Zuko was right in the kitchen. Oh, no.

"Why?" she leaked into the pillow, a cry for silence, "Why him?"

She was jealous of him—no, _envious._

_His_ mother was alive.

**.x.**

Zuko passed by her door.

He heard it, heard the mumble of grief and the scream of pain, all muffled down by what he knew was a trembling tan hand. She was sobbing in a way he's never heard before, perhaps only once, once when it exploded from his chest as a child with a red eye and no mother. He knew the sound, knew the frayed melody. Something inside him told to put a hand on her door, eyes waiting and heart listening. To help her, to calm her, to _confront her. _His hand lingered on the wood.

But, his feet told him to run.

He listened to them instead.


	51. Behind the Bushes

**a/n: been a while. sorry this one is gross.**

* * *

"Done yet?"

With his head between his knees, Zuko glanced over at the waterbender patting his back. His dinner and spoiled guts were all over the lovely rose bushes in the back of his old summer house. Her obviously triumphant hands continued to softly thump against his back, his queasy and paled face shaking at her slightly impatient question.

"Not quite."

Then he retched the remaining of his stomach on the pansies bush this time, while Katara rolled her eyes.

There was something comforting in the fact that Katara stood next to him while his dignity and pride (and everything that was necessary to be A Man) embarrassingly splashed near his shoes. She didn't even complain, just neatly scrunched up her face and turned the other way, hand on his back. Something in the back of his head, where all the colors and thoughts had become soggy and twisted around, made him realize that Azula, or Mai or Ty lee would ever do such a thing. He would have thanked her, if his voice and confidence hadn't sunk into his knees.

Instead, she thanked him.

"I really appreciate you trying to stick up for me—but please, I hope to all the merciful Spirits out there that you learned a valuable lesson."

Never, _ever _force Sokka, Toph and Aang to cook dinner instead of Katara.

_Damn Agni, this is what he gets for trying to be nice. "_Let me guess, you didn't actually eat any of it." Hands on his knees, he tilted his head so that his scarred eye was looking at her, relieved for the fact his blurry vision covered her disgusted face like a fog. "_No_. I'm not the insane one." And in his filthy, pathetic state, with his stained shirt and red against sickly pale cheeks, she grabbed him be the hand.

"Let's get you cleaned up, oh Prince Charming."

"Thanks—for—thank you for this—"

"Don't worry about it. I've deal with these kind of situations before."

"..really?"

"Yes. With five year olds in my village."

She smiled and didn't let go of his hand.


	52. The Moon's Shadow

**Title:** The Moon's Shadow  
**Rating**: T  
**Word Count**: 777  
**Time/Setting:** Post-war, less than a year after Zuko is crowned Fire Lord, in the Fire Nation.  
**Summary:** Katara has reached her limit. For the sake of the world, she will do what others_ could not._

**Part 1/2**

When she crashes into the gray prison tower, her entire body is trembling with feverish pants that growl from the deepest bellows of her throat. She's been running, all the way from the fire kissed palace, the minute after the last intruder fell from a second attempted rebellion and assassination of the Avatar and the Fire Lord, of _Aang and Zuko. _

At this moment, Katara's eyes are shining with wild and the rawness of a knife twisting and twisting in an old wound again. As she stumbles from uncontrollable footsteps that are directed with anger and frustrated nails dragging along the inside halls of her skin, she freezes any guard that raises his voice to the wall and moves on, forward, forward, looking for one particular man.

It's past midnight, and rays of a full moon drip down the bars of the narrow passage way, dark and wet and engulfing and all that is going through her mind is—_wrong night, wrong night._

She stops at the barred cell. Smacks her lips, and the animal like humming doesn't stop. The fallen Phoenix Lord does almost smiles, rising from his feet as she breaks the locks with one slice of jagged, sharp water. Before he is able to open his mouth, she raised one hand, her eyes so violently narrowed that it punches the air out of him. Ozai's body is being raised off the ground, color flushing from his cheeks and limbs melting numbly, stiffly. The energy of his blood is sitting on her fingertips.

Katara throws her arm down. Then _again, again, and again. _His body slams down on the cracked floor, bones screaming while she gritted her teeth against the hollow sound of flesh beating on stone. His own blood was pushing down against the insides of his skin, then dragging him back up in the air over again, lifting him up by strangled veins and muscles. He landed the fifth time against the splatter of puddles, her arm still and steady before her, holding the very thing that was keeping him alive with the cup of her palm facing upward. She shivered a little, because from her fingertips she could feel the blood sit, but she could also feel it all running outward, rushing and leaking from the open cut on his eyebrow, his ribs, his scraped limbs. All the red liquid was in her control, and she let some flow, let them taste it as it pooled around his face plastered to the ground and settle near her feet.

He was still alive. This was good, this was very good, because she wanted him to see her pierced eyes as she let the silence echo with her feet splashing in his ancient, monstrous blood. He needed to see her kneel before his face, look him in the eye, and let him realize that she _knows _he has secretly been sending the political revolts and plotting in this damned cage. This man needs to feel she is here for every pain, every death, every scar he has caused. She needs him to understand that she will do what everyone else _could not. _

Nothing is said, but she narrows her eyes deeper than an ocean and it rips her face in half all the way through, and she is crying silently, _I will not let you ruin everything. _Vengeance is not sweet—it is quick and cutting and she closes her fist as he opens his gold eyes wide for the last time.

Her hand feels empty, his body is sinking quietly, and she falls back into the red floor. Katara isn't sure how much time has passed before or after this man's heart collapsed with her bare hands, but she isheaving breaths that slice every organ inside of her with every exhale. Bringing her knees to her chest, she tries to suffocate the heated blade inside of her, tries to hold her breath all the way through her body so tightly that she doesn't even realize that voices have arrived and doors have crashed.

They say her name, she doesn't acknowledge them. She doesn't look up, because she knows that one airy, grey eyed voice, and she knows the look on this boy's face is one of confusion and disgust and _falling out of love._ She knows the touch on her shoulder is warm and scared, and her face buries into his scar as he picks her up. She cries knowing that this boy is the son of a man she murdered.

Her dress is stained, her hands are puncturing tight. She cries harder because there are no regrets and she can't let go.

--


	53. The Moon's Shadow Part 2

**Title: **The Moon's Shadow**  
Part 2/2  
Author's Note: **I know it doesn't seem very Zutara-ish, but it's subtle, I think?  
On a different note, I'll be trying to update more.

--

There is no explanation as to why she is quiet for the next few days—no one approaches and no one certainly questions. As if she has been beaten rough, her face is swollen, throat raw, and her entire body tense as crumbling stones. She walks, her composure collapsing into itself, drawn within.

Those same two boys she keeps avoiding won't stop watching her.

Aang has had enough when he sits up from the windowsill, reaching out for her should with his right arm. "Katara," he hovers so he is standing in front of her, head dipping under hers and eyes glancing up into hers, "Look, I don't like seeing you like this, so I want you to know, that I—I _forgive _you—for what you did." The waterbender's face paled, gaze hardening on the Avatar.

He smiled and he even managed to lean forward, aiming for her parted, chapped lips.

As quickly as she could, she ducked from the target of his lips, then under his arms that had been resting on her shoulders, and slipped away from his stare that beats against her heart every night. "Katara!" But she huffed hot air and escaped into the room next door, slamming the door behind her heels.

Just as he was about to chase her, Zuko, who had been watching it all, slung an arm against the boy's shoulder. "Aang—_stop."_

"B-But that was supposed to make her feel better and—"

The Fire Lord without a crown on his head pushed him sharply, against the bookshelf behind his orange colored robes. "_St_op." He spoke in whispers, voice flickering like a sparked flame on a candle. "Aang. Aang, that is not why she is upset. It's not about you. She doesn't want you to remind her that you _disapproved." _

"So what am I supposed to do, Zuko? Lie? She _killed someone, _your father, if you have forgotten, she knows how I felt about that, she knows its wrong—"

Zuko pushed his frame against the bookshelf, the rough bone of palms raw on the Avatar's bony shoulders. His finger curled on the bright fabric, his eyes so narrowed that his scar engulfed the golden orb. "You should thank her. For doing what you couldn't do." Letting go of the airbender, he stepped back, looking down at both their feet. "What you don't understand, maybe because you're a monk or so young, is that power isn't determined by your _bending abilities. _It's something one is born with in the Fire Nation, or anywhere in the world. It comes with respect, with intimidation. And Ozai had that, even in a slimy cage, he still had his followers and power, even if I'm the one wearing his crown."

He turned toward the door that Katara had disappeared behind.

"I know it hurts Katara right now, that it seems wrong, but in reality," he paused to look back at Aang, calmer, "She has helped us, greatly. She's honestly saved us for the time being. And now it's our turn to help her."

With his hands behind his back, Zuko gave a curt nod and tightened his lips. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to deliver a message to the public. That the ex-Fire Lord Ozai has died of natural causes in his imprisonment." Exhaling, he gave a quick glance at Aang before turning toward the door where Katara was, leaving him behind.

--


	54. Stillness

She's been here everyday now. Once when the sky is blushing from the morning and he is meditating facing the window until she opens his door with her still crinkled eyes. Then at the very end of the day, when the knot has loosened in his stomach along with the topknot on his head, and she is simply brightening by the hours with the moon. Katara enters his crimson bedroom, bandages in hand, closing the door softly behind her. She smiles, always, and he finds himself smiling back, slipping off his robe and cringing into her glowing, cooling hands.

But today is the last day, she says. There is no need to keep healing--you're good. Time and rest is all there is left, she trails off.

Okay, he whispers back.

Sitting on the floor, they faced each other, knees grazing each other, bone against bone, scabs and scabs, skin under light, foreign layers. Zuko stared down at his bare chest, where the star exploding red mark met him in the eye. She blinked, gazing at the masterpiece etched into his flesh, and she could read her name over and over again, the imprints of her healing hardly noticeable on the outside. Distantly, she let her fingers roam on air across the scar, and it felt just like the other one less than a year ago. When she stops, they both look up, and she breathes a question foggily between them.

What's your favorite thing in the whole world?

Zuko tangled up his face, pinching the bridge of his nose to think of her, the still night air look blurring her face, the question.

I have no idea, he shook his head.

Fingers dipped back down against the red tattoo, just briefly, as she stared into his eyes, grasping at the answer on wasn't willing to find. He felt her hand. It made his breath hitch, it make it think, and thinking of this spun his mind far too tight, so he tilted his chin up at her, repeating the question silently. Katara only paused for a second, and then she answers confidently, Dinner. Dinner, she repeats, with all of us--me, you, Aang, Sokka, Toph, Suki. At the corners of his mouth, his lips crack loudly, as he questioned her without a word, just a strange little look at her blue eyes. She shrugged, looking down at the marble floors that made her think of crystals, brushing at her hair shyly.

I don't know, Katara looked at him again, smiling, it makes me happy, knowing we're all together, that we're safe, and full and happy.

Zuko nodded, letting her words travel between them, and slip between the gaps and holes that the scars had left in him, resting under his skin and cooling down his flame tipped blood.

I just don't want to be_ alone_, she confessed, reaching for him from under her eyelashes.

When he bowed his head, it slipped out, I think, I'm _finally_ figuring out what it means to be _happy. _I like those days, he added softly, looking to her.

It starts here, he didn't say.


End file.
